


Phoenix

by OfTheMoors



Category: Maleficent (Disney Movies), Maleficent - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Loss, Pregnancy, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-01-27 07:30:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 30,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21388396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfTheMoors/pseuds/OfTheMoors
Summary: "A hundred years after the day Maleficent saved him from the farmer, they were still together.  No longer servant and mistress, but companions.  Friends, though to Diaval’s torment, nothing more."Rating is for later chapters.  Chapter 1 is G-rated.
Relationships: Diaval & Maleficent (Disney), Diaval/Maleficent (Disney)
Comments: 73
Kudos: 453





	1. Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone. This is my first published fic, so please be gentle! I recently saw 'Mistress of Evil' and I ship Maleficent and Diaval in a fairly major way, so I decided to write down my thoughts. Rating is for later chapters (which are still incomplete at the time of writing these notes), as chapter one is completely G-rated.

**Chapter 1 - Ashes**

A hundred years after the day Maleficent saved him from the farmer, they were still together. No longer servant and mistress, but companions. Friends, though to Diaval’s torment, nothing more. Diaval watched and waited, years upon years, decades upon decades, patiently waiting until she was ready to truly open her heart. The motherly love she felt for Aurora remained as fierce as ever, and she cherished the children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren of her adopted daughter, but still, she feared the love of a man.

Aurora had lived for many decades, a kind and generous Queen. Philip had passed some years before, and now Aurora lived a quiet life in the castle, as her now-elderly son King James ruled Ulstead. She was well into her nineties, and although happy, was in failing health.

Diaval and Maleficent, however, remained as youthful as they had been a hundred years before. It was more difficult for Maleficent to see her daughter so weak and withered; Diaval, having lived the lifetimes of generations of ravens as a result of Maleficent’s magic, understood far better the passage of time and the mortality of most living creatures. He could see that Aurora was fading, and through his own pain at the thought of losing her, gently began preparing his companion for the inevitable.

They moved into the castle in the cold of winter, freezing winds and blustery snow blowing past the stone walls. Aurora’s son spent many long days with her, and her daughter travelled from afar. Grandchildren flocked to her bedside from all over the continent. Diaval played with the little princes and princesses when they came to visit their great grandmother in her bed, and even Maleficent couldn’t help but smile at their antics. Aurora, though ailing, enjoyed these visits. Her adoptive parents seldom left her side.

Aurora passed on the first day of spring. Maleficent’s howls of grief echoed through the castle, throughout Ulstead, to the ends of the Moors. Humans and creatures alike looked up in fear, and then understanding – this was not something that would hurt them, no, but terrible, unbearable pain. Diaval held her, tears falling freely into her hair, as she sobbed uncontrollably. They curled together for hours like that, as Aurora’s servants washed her body and dressed her in her finest gown, only moving as they gently placed her into her coffin and took her from the room. Maleficent followed her beloved daughter silently, tears spent, with red-rimmed eyes and shaky breath. Diaval stayed by her side, twining his fingers with hers and squeezing her hand. He did not let go, even as they lowered Aurora into the ground.

They did not speak. There was nothing to say.

King James asked them to stay a while longer, but Diaval told him gently that it was time for them to go home to the Moors. Maleficent remained silent, as though speaking would release a grief-born demon from her lips, but her eyes thanked Diaval for his understanding. Years of visiting the court had acclimatized them to it, but in this time of intense sorrow, she needed to be at home. They both needed to be at home.

They flew in silence.


	2. Dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, Chapter 2! I've been editing this for the past two days (and writing the dialogue in my head whilst driving), and I hope I've not strayed from being true to the characters (albeit the characters in a hundred years - I did work on the assumption that they would be far more comfortable with each other after so many years, hence Diaval using Maleficent's name rather than 'Mistress', and the unquestioned acceptance of comforting physical contact). It's one of my fanfiction pet peeves, the 'suddenly out of character'-ness which sometimes occurs, so I really hope I've not gone and done it myself!
> 
> This chapter is definitely NOT G-rated.

**Chapter 2 - Dust**

Maleficent retreated to her nest immediately. Diaval could hear her rustling, unwrapping her horns and combing the snarls from her long brown hair, changing into her nightgown, settling into her nest for the night. He transformed into his raven form and found a perch nearby. He would grieve in his own time, but she needed him now. His sorrow was sharp and overwhelming, but hers was potentially dangerous. Her grief was fraught with fear and rage, and although her self-control had improved since their first meeting, Diaval was all too aware of what she might be capable of if she lost control of herself in the throes of soul-deep agony. Once her pain had dulled… then he would let himself feel the anguish at losing the closest person he’d had to his own child.

He must have dozed, because he woke with a start at the sound of her ragged breathing. A sob. _Oh my love._ He alighted from the branch and transformed into a man again.

She was curled up tightly enough to look painful; arms clutched around her knees, magnificent wings surrounding her. She shook with each sob, tears rolling down her angular cheeks, and his heart broke. 

“Maleficent…”

He took her in his arms and held her, rocking gently, as she cried and cried and cried. He couldn’t hold back himself, sorrow washing over him in a great wave, and he sobbed along with her. Their daughter. Their little one. She was gone.

A long time later, when no more tears could possibly be shed, still they held each other. Diaval stroked Maleficent’s silky hair, and she looked up at him, golden green eyes meeting black. 

“I can’t keep allowing myself to do this.” Maleficent quavered. “Everyone I let myself love leaves me and breaks my heart. Stefan betrayed me. Aurora couldn’t stop herself from growing old and dying. Even you… you’ll leave me someday too.”

“Never. I pledged my life, and you can’t get rid of me now.”

“You will. You’ll die someday too.”

“I think I won’t die until you do.”

“What on Earth gives you that ridiculous notion?” she sniffed.

Diaval took a deep breath. “I think I realized it the day that James was born. Remember, when you came and brought me to Aurora’s room after it was all over, and she handed me the baby-”

“And said ‘James, meet Grandfather Diaval’. I remember it well. You had the most miraculously delighted look on your face.”

“It was a most miraculously delightful moment. I never expected to meet a grandchild.”

“I don’t see why not.”

“By the time James was born, how long had I already lived? I was already a few years old when you rescued me – I was no fledgling. We were together nearly twenty-four years before James was born. I should already have been long dead by then. But I wasn’t. It hit me in that moment, holding James, that I should never have been around to see him, but there I was. Not just meeting a grandchild, but hale and hearty all the while. Young, even.”

Maleficent regarded him for a moment, and nodded for him to continue.

“I’ve been alive for over a century. I’m the Methuselah of ravens. I’m so bound up in your magic that I don’t think I’ll die until you do – unless something helps me into an early grave, of course.” He shifted his hand to touch her cheek gently. “So you’re stuck with me for at least as long as the rest of your life.”

“I hope you don’t annoy me too much. I’m not even halfway through it yet.” she snorted, but she didn’t move away from his hand.

Perhaps it was because they were raw with grief, and emotions were closer to the surface than usual. Perhaps loss had caused a realization that nothing could ever remain the same. Perhaps it was simply time, after a century of pretending there was nothing more.

He leaned down and kissed her.

Softly, chastely, at first. She didn’t pull away.

Diaval deepened the kiss, trying to convey the depth of his love for her with his lips. Maleficent raised a hand, and for a brief moment he feared that she was about to transform him into a mealy worm, but instead she brought her hand to his cheek and parted her lips. Diaval wondered if perhaps he had died alongside Aurora and this was a beautiful afterlife. He kissed her, and he kissed her, and he kissed her. And she kissed him.

Neither could have pinpointed the moment their kisses became hungrier, more desperate, but it wasn’t long before their tongues dueled, his hands tangled in her hair, hers cradling his jaw. Need overtook Maleficent and she moved down Diaval’s jaw and throat, kissing, biting, sucking. He gasped, running his hands over her shoulders, stroking her wings. Her slender fingers made short work of his buttons and her mouth was on his chest, licking and kissing, her hands splayed across his sternum. She nibbled at his exposed nipple, pushing his shirt from his shoulders, and he gasped involuntarily.

Did she want to mate? Oh my, _oh my feathers_, she wants to mate. As a raven, he had never understood the attraction that humanlike species had for each other – mating was for making babies, and nothing more. As a raven-man, though, he had found himself admiring her shapely form as much as her whip-smart mind. Birds do not mate for pleasure, but he was not entirely a bird anymore, and he had longed for her for nearly a hundred years.

His mouth trailed kisses along her collarbone, gently moving the soft fabric of her nightgown from her shoulders so that it fell, pooling around her waist. He cupped her breasts, thumbs gently circling her nipples.

Diaval had never expected that he’d ever hear Maleficent _moan_.

He bent his head and took her nipple in his mouth, suckling gently. She threaded her hands through his hair, breath hitching at the sensation. Diaval moved to her other breast, circling his tongue around her nipple, and drew gentle circles over her stomach with his fingers. 

“Diaval!” Maleficent gasped, jerking her hips toward him. He slowly moved his hands lower. He had only the slightest idea of what he was doing, from information gleaned from decades of spying on humans, but if faes are built like human females then if I touch _here_…

If Diaval was delighted to discover that faes were, indeed, built like human females, it was nothing compared to Maleficent’s delight at his observational skills.

He stroked her folds carefully, watching the expression of wonder on her face. His fingers found an odd little nub, and he rubbed it gently. Maleficent’s eyes fluttered closed and she moaned, parting her thighs further. Diaval circled the nub again, eliciting another low moan. She began to move her hips in rhythm with his fingers, breathing heavily, and although he had no idea exactly what he was doing to her, he kept doing it. His body was responding to her, the man-organ between his thighs swelling painfully. As though reading his mind, Maleficent reached down without looking and freed him from his trousers. She ran her fingers along his length and he bucked toward her. She gripped him, stroking up and down, and he groaned and whimpered at the sensation. 

He heard her breathing becoming erratic, and her strokes faltered as she began to shudder and writhe beneath his fingers. What was happening? Was he hurting her? Diaval was about to stop caressing the little nub when Maleficent cried out his name, collapsing into the nest as her climax waned. She gazed up at him with languid eyes.

“I’m not going to ask where you learned to do that, Diaval.” she murmured, the faintest smile playing across her crimson lips, “But you are rather good at it.”

“You told me to spy on the humans… so I spied on them.” he answered cheekily.

Her smile was devilish. “What else did you learn, pretty bird?”

“Oh, lots of things. I know how to spit-roast a suckling pig. I can also say, ‘You smell like a barn’ in High French.”

“Diaval.”

Maleficent licked her lips and stared intensely at him. He was suddenly very aware of her near-nakedness and his man-organ throbbed. She smiled a knowing smile.

“Show me what you’ve learned.”

Diaval groaned with need, drinking in the beauty of her body laid bare for him. He shucked his trousers and slid her nightgown from her body. He ran his hands up the insides of her thighs, marveling at the softness of her skin, and positioned himself between them. He looked deeply into her eyes and bent to kiss her gently. Maleficent’s hand snaked between their bodies, taking his length and guiding him. He broke the kiss, holding her gaze again. Making sure.

“You want this?”

“I want this. Do you?”

“Oh yes. So much. And for so long.”

He entered her carefully, knowing that this was likely her first time, and that even if it wasn’t, it had been a century for her. A fleeting look of pain chased the rapture from her face, but she whispered his name with a reverence he’d never before heard, and he buried himself completely within her warmth. Never breaking eye contact, he began to move inside her, wondering why they had denied themselves this joy for so long. Her lips parted, pupils large and eyes longing, and Diaval couldn’t help but smile. He moved faster, tendrils of pleasure moving through his body, his eyes wide at this new and amazing sensation. Ripples of golden magic began to surround them. Maleficent began to shudder again, moaning Diaval’s name. His breath came in gasps – he didn’t know what was happening to him, but it was good, so good, and was this what he’d done to Maleficent? This delight of the body, this amazing feeling, it was, it was, it was…

Maleficent clenched her inner walls around him as she fell apart, writhing and arching against him. The sensation was too much for him to bear, and he exploded, crying out her name as he filled her with his seed. He collapsed against her chest, breathing heavily, an expression of utter wonder on his face.

Her arms enveloped him, and they held each other for a long time.


	3. Breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter this time, but there's more to come in the coming days.
> 
> Will Maleficent stay in control of herself?
> 
> Come on, we all know the answer to that one. Something is going to happen and she's going to blow her stack...
> 
> I'm not planning on intentionally tormenting her.
> 
> (Yes I am.)

**Chapter 3 - Breath**

The morning came, and with it, a fresh wave of sorrow as the reality of a life without their Beastie could not be denied. Maleficent and Diaval awoke in each other’s arms, and although Diaval had anticipated some repercussion from the night before, the beautiful fae just blinked sleepily and smiled at him in a way which made his heart soar. He gently pushed a lock of hair away from her eyes, and she kissed him softly in response. Diaval had never felt as conflicted in his life; on one hand, wanting to sing with joy at the top of his lungs that at last, at long last, Maleficent was his lover, but on the other, wanting to rend himself limb from limb in heartbreak at the loss of their precious Aurora.

Although her inclinations told her to isolate herself, Diaval encouraged Maleficent to leave the nest, lest her grief consume her. They walked the Moors together, where blossoms and new leaves heralded the change of season. Maleficent healed the plant life that had been damaged during the long winter, trailing graceful fingers over branches as she passed by. Sympathetic Moorfolk came to express their sorrow at Aurora’s death, and Maleficent was uncharacteristically patient with them, even with the pixie folk who were perpetually irritating to her. Her sad smile at their kind words worried Diaval. He had expected her to retreat into herself until she was unable to contain her feelings, explode dramatically, and then calm down as she always did. This, though… this was not like her at all. She had retreated, certainly, as he was the only being she would allow herself to openly grieve before, but her _calmness_ concerned him. He eyed her warily.

For many weeks, their days changed very little. They would walk the Moors, healing the land from the bitter winter, talking to the Moorfolk. Maleficent made it clear that she had no desire to fly, and Diaval found that he had little desire to fly without her. Though her melancholy was plain for all to see, Maleficent largely kept her emotions in check, much to Diaval’s surprise and vague discomfort. 

When night fell, they would return to their nest. Sometimes they made love; gently, passionately, wildly, and everything in between, and sometimes they just held each other and cried, loss more overwhelming than longing. Diaval wondering if this was what was sustaining Maleficent, keeping her from giving in to misery.

As the weather warmed and the spring equinox brought sweet-scented breezes and the promise of summer, the rawness of fresh grief began to shift to a constant deep ache. Diaval began to relax in spite of himself. One bright day, Maleficent caught his eye and smiled slightly, stretching her wings and soaring into the air. Diaval’s heart sang as he took on his bird form and followed her; she hadn’t flown since they had returned home from Aurora’s burial. Gliding on updraughts and spiralling through the clouds, it was as though nothing had ever changed. Perhaps they were beginning to heal.


	4. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help myself - after MoE, Borra is a character who I think is more than he first seems. Has anyone Googled the meaning of the name 'Borra'? Seriously, Google it. He's trouble. You heard it here first.
> 
> Anyway, Borra is here to cause some friction and poke Maleficent into... Maleficenting.
> 
> Thank you so much for your kudos and comments so far!

**Chapter 4 - Love**

The rhythmic thudding beats of powerful wings announced the arrival of a Dark Fae visitor long before he landed.

“Borra.” Maleficent acknowledged, as he folded his wings and inclined his head in greeting.

“Maleficent.”

Diaval gave a curt wave. “Hello Borra. Fancy seeing you here.”

Borra glanced at Diaval without smiling, his suddenly still posture leaving little room for interpretation. “Bird-man.”

“It’s Diaval, actually, but I can see how you might forget that.”

“What brings you to the Moors, Borra?” Maleficent asked abruptly, trying to forestall a brawl between the two men. There was little love lost between them, and she was well aware that she was likely the cause of it. Borra had been trying unsuccessfully to convince her to be his mate for the better part of fifty years.

“I have come with good tidings. Brae and Alva have promised to mate. I am here to invite you to their joining. Perhaps you would enjoy attending such a pleasant occasion, after your recent loss.”

“Brae and Alva? But they are children.”

Borra smiled. “They have not been children for many a year. It has been far too long since you have spent time with us.”

Diaval looked to Maleficent. Feeling his gaze upon her, she turned. “Shall we go, Diaval?”

Borra looked scandalized, and Diaval realized with a smirk that the invitation had not actually been extended to him. Maleficent no doubt realized the same, but he had never known her to be one to follow the unspoken rules of etiquette. 

“Oh yes, I do love a good joining. Always a great feast to be had afterwards.”

“Good.” she asserted. “When is the joining?”

Borra wasn’t pouting, exactly, but he wasn’t far from it. “At the full moon, tomorrow evening. They will join on the Dark Fae island. After that, I suppose we will see what happens. Brae is of the Desert and Alva of the Tundra, and… discussions were had.”

“They are arguing already? That bodes well.” Maleficent raised a shapely eyebrow to emphasise her words.

“Not Brae and Alva. Their families. Each believes that the couple should join and live with them. It has been a challenging negotiation.”

“A wedding charged with conflict? We’ve never seen anything like that before.” Diaval remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He caught Maleficent’s eye and ducked his head at her withering look.

\---

That night, the gibbous moon rose high in the sky as Maleficent and Diaval flew swiftly across the sparkling sea to the ancestral island of the Dark Fae. Most of the Fae were still awake when they arrived, however, and Maleficent in particular was greeted with enthusiasm by the now-grown Fae children who saw her as the savior of their kind. Diaval immediately gravitated to the young ones, joining in a game of aerial catch until he was knocked literally from the sky by a rogue bark ball.

“I’m okay!” he insisted, transforming into a man as he leapt to his feet. Maleficent rearranged the concern on her face into exasperation before he was able to see her momentary fear for his safety.

“Good. The last thing I need is you moping and moaning about because you’ve gotten yourself injured whilst behaving like a child.” Her eyebrow twitched, the only indication that her words were intended to be teasing.

Diaval awoke in the morning with a face full of feathers. He sneezed, rousing Maleficent.

“Gesundheit, as the humans say.”

He sniffed. “Thanks.” A sly smile found its way across his face, and he slid his hand to her hip whilst gently nibbling at the soft flesh of her earlobe. She let out a barely audible whine.

“We are invited guests. We can’t… idly lay about here all morning.”

“I don’t intend to be idle.” he whispered into her ear, in what he hoped was an extremely seductive tone.

Maleficent shifted carefully, lest she accidentally stabbed him in the eye with her horns, and gave him a rueful look. “Diaval.”

“Mmm-hmm?” he responded, burying his face between her breasts.

“Diaval!”

He raised his head to look at her. “If I say ‘pretty please’?”

Her sympathetic look was not what he had hoped for. Diaval pouted. 

“Not even quickly?”

She hesitated for a fraction of a second too long, her expression suddenly smoldering, and it was all the encouragement that Diaval needed.

\---

The Dark Fae certainly enjoyed a celebration, Diaval noted as he watched a coordinated dance involving mid-air flips and quite a bit of foot-stomping. Some of the young adults who were not directly involved in the main dance were engaged in dances of their own, laughing and twirling, trying to out-stomp each other.

Maleficent watched them with an indulgent smile on her face. He wondering how her life would have been different had she grown up among them; no doubt with her grace and aerial skill, she would have been front and center with the dancers. He was not in the slightest bit sorry that she had grown up in the Moors instead.

Diaval turned around as a voice spoke up.

“Excuse me.” Borra stood before Maleficent, hands behind his back, with an air of importance about him. “May I speak to you privately?”

She inclined her head, and he gestured toward a quieter location around some boulders. Diaval followed, ignoring the lethal expression on Borra’s face when he realized that Maleficent was not coming alone.

Borra took a deep breath and launched into what was clearly a rehearsed speech. “Maleficent. I recall Brae as a small boy, learning to fly. Now, he is to be joined, and here I am, still unmated. I ask you again, as I have asked you so many times before. I wish for you to be my mate. You should not remain unmated forever, if only because you are the last descendant of the Phoenix. The line must continue. I would be a good mate for you.”

“I cannot be your mate.”

“I cannot see why not!”

“I have a mate.” she said simply. Diaval beamed, thrilled at this unexpected but welcome development. She generally wasn’t the type to volunteer personal information.

“You have a mate? Who…“ Realization suddenly dawned on Borra, as a smug smile played across Diaval’s face. “No, not this _bird-man_! Surely you wouldn’t turn your back on your own kind to mate with a bird?! Can he even give you a child?! The line of the Phoenix will die with you! How can you allow that?”

“I had a child, a wonderful, beautiful, joyful daughter, and then I watched her die. I have never known such pain before. I have no wish to inflict it upon myself again by having another.”

Borra was apoplectic.

“Besides which,” she continued, “I did not choose a mate from obligation. It’s a terrible habit.”

“You _fell in love_.” Borra sneered. Maleficent held his gaze, unflinching. Borra narrowed his eyes at her, snarled in Diaval’s direction, and suddenly took off vertically, flying higher and higher until he was a speck in the sky.

“I feel a lot more self-satisfied than I probably should.” Diaval commented, watching him go. Maleficent gave him a serious look. He cocked his head to the side, frowning at her.

“Don’t gloat, it’s unbecoming. Not to mention that Borra has a terrible temper. Don’t tease him. He could be dangerous if you provoke him.”

Diaval regarded her cynically. “Anyone would think it was a Dark Fae trait.”

Maleficent glared at him and swept away without a word. Diaval scurried after her. “It was a joke!”

\---

He was hardly more than a boy, Diaval thought. The young couple stood hand in hand before the remains of the Phoenix, eyes for each other alone.

“I, Brae of the Desert Fae, take this oath before the Phoenix Herself. I promise myself to you, Alva of the Tundra Fae, for all the days of my life. I am bound to you always.”

The young Desert Fae let out a breath and grinned at the pale female standing beside him, clearly relieved that he had remembered the words correctly. She returned his smile and began her own oath.

“I, Alva of the Tundra Fae, take this oath before the Phoenix Herself. I promise myself to you, Brae of the Desert Fae, for all the days of my life. I am bound to you always.” She reached out and clasped his hand. Magic began to swirl around them, sealing their oath and their joining. They turned to face the watching Fae, grinning deliriously, and a cheer rose from the crowd.

The young couple, hand in hand, led the way to the large chamber which was playing host to their joining feast. Fae of all ages followed them, chattering and laughing happily, some even breaking into song. Maleficent held Diaval’s hand, keeping him from following the crowd of revelers to the joining feast. He was somewhat annoyed at this – having snuck a peek at what was on offer in his raven form before the ceremony, he was rather looking forward to it.

The last of the crowd melted away, and they were alone.

“I lied to Borra.” Maleficent spoke. “I told him we were mated. A harmless little lie, unless he happens to find out about it, but a lie nonetheless.”

“We mostly are, though. We mostly have been for years. It’s only recently that we’ve gotten around to the ‘mating’ part of being mated.” Diaval smirked. “About time, I have to say. We could have been doing it for years. I feel like I’ve wasted my life.”

“Cheeky bird.”

“That’s me.” he winked.

Maleficent regarded him for a moment. “Come on, then.”

She led him to the Phoenix. “I don’t like lying.” Grasping his hands, she looked into his eyes. “It’s a simple oath, but as binding for the Fae as a wedding is for the humans.”

“And then it won’t be a lie.” he murmured softly, realizing exactly what she was proposing.

“And then it won’t be a lie.” she replied with a smile.

“And I’ll be the happiest raven that ever lived.”

“A nice little side-effect, if nothing else.”

She took a deep breath. “I, Maleficent of the Moors, take this oath before the Phoenix Herself. I promise myself to you, Diaval of the Moors, for all the days of my life. I am bound to you always.” she whispered. “Pull yourself together.”

Diaval’s eyes shone with joyous tears, reflecting the golden magic which now surrounded them. He squeezed her hands and vowed, ““I, Diaval of the Moors, take this oath before the Phoenix Herself. I promise myself to you, Maleficent of the Moors, for all the days of my life. I am bound to you always. Always and forever. Because I love you.”

With that, he pulled her into an embrace, tears escaping from his inky eyes.

“Silly emotional bird.” she whispered affectionately, holding him tightly.

\---

She found him an hour later on the other side of the joining feast, after Diaval’s grumbling stomach insisted they attend, with a large piece of pie jammed into his mouth, struggling to chew.

“Nobody is going to take the pie from you, Diaval. There’s no need to choke yourself to death.”

“Ahmmrrgghhaamrrrm mmarrmmarrrm.”

Maleficent blinked at him, somehow managing to convey her irritation with the simple movement. “I will wait.”

Diaval found it difficult to chew with her glaring at him, but he managed to down the remains of the pie and turned to grin at her. “There, all gone! That was really good, I wonder if there’s any more around…?”

“Diaval.”

“Y-es?” he replied hesitantly.

“Come with me. Right now.”

“What have I done?”

“What _haven’t _you done is probably more accurate. Into a bird.” she twirled her fingers, transforming him. She had seldom changed him against his will for years, since she had gifted him the power to do it himself, and Diaval was suddenly very concerned about why she was suddenly very, very annoyed at him. As far as he knew, all he’d done in the last hour was eat pie. Well, and a few other things. Quite a few other things, in fact.

He followed her as she flew higher and higher, to the outside of the island, to the top of the tallest tree, to the seldom-used lookout which had been built there long ago. He hovered, anticipating…

“Into a man.” There it was. He fell to the floor.

“I feel as though I shouldn’t be asking questions right now, but why are we hiding in a tree?”

Maleficent didn’t answer. She climbed over his frame and kissed him firmly, teeth grazing his lower lip. Diaval’s brain finally caught up and then promptly disengaged again. His hands slid up to hold her hips and she pushed him down to the floor, her kisses wild and reckless.

“I was eating pie.”

“You,” kiss, “Were.”

“I shouldn’t have been eating pie.”

“No.” She bit him on the throat.

“Can you forgive me?”

She growled and licked the spot she’d just bitten, sliding her hands under the hem of his shirt and over his stomach. He shuddered as the sensation moved straight to his groin. Maleficent ground her hips into him in triumph at his response to her and Diaval groaned. For a being who had spent most of her life avoiding men, she had developed an insatiable appetite since their relationship had become physical, and Diaval was only too happy to oblige.

His hand found the laces at the front of her dress, deftly untying them to reveal her flawless breasts. He whimpered, taking one in each hand and gently teasing her nipples with his thumbs. She raised herself up then, shimmying out of her gown, and settled back down above him. Bright moonlight illuminated her features, giving her an even more otherworldly appearance than usual. She leaned back down to capture his mouth with hers again.

Diaval returned Maleficent’s kiss ferociously, sliding his pants down his legs without breaking contact with her lips. Their lovemaking was often sweet and gentle, but this time need eclipsed any other desire. No sooner were his pants a distant memory than she took him into her with a single fluid motion, a satisfied moan escaping her lips, and she began to move her hips rhythmically. Diaval rose to meet her, gripping her hips, his breathing hoarse. They moved in unison, Maleficent’s fingernails scratching long lines into Diaval’s exposed chest as she moaned in pleasure. Diaval gasped in time with her movements, his head lolling back in bliss as she sank down on him again and again, how was he so lucky to have this with her, to _have_ her like this? 

Through the haze of pleasure, Diaval realized how perilously close he was already. Not wanting to leave Maleficent behind, he reached down to where they were joined to find the little nub which caused her such delight, his fingers moving in firm circles in time to their movements. She inhaled sharply, closing her eyes and moaning shamelessly. Diaval increased the pressure slightly and Maleficent shuddered and cried out, nails digging into his chest as she came, inner walls clenching around him tightly. 

Diaval moved his hand back to her hip and began pumping frantically, desperately, chasing his own release. It was only moments before he sobbed in pleasure, falling over the edge, plunging into her from below for the final time.

Maleficent lay her head on Diaval’s chest, breathing hard. Her wings shrouded them, moving up and down slightly. He laid his hand on her hair, stroking behind her horns. His heart was pounding and he knew that she could hear it, steady and comforting, proof that he was alive and still with her.


	5. Fury

Diaval returned to their chamber in his raven form, finding it far easier to move around the Fae tunnels by flying, to find Maleficent asleep in the nest. He settled on an encroaching tree root, regarding her affectionately. She looked so peaceful, her features relaxed in slumber, crimson lips parted slightly, her hands curled together near her cheek.

Beating wings and a hefty thump drew his attention to the chamber entrance. Maleficent woke with a start.

“Borra. What are you doing here?” she asked, blinking away the last vestiges of slumber.

“I have come to make you see reason.”

“I cannot think what you mean.”

“You cannot mate a bird who thinks he is a man. Cast him aside and mate one of your own. Or keep him as a dalliance, if you must, but I must insist that you choose a mate from the Dark Fae.”

“I will do no such thing.” Maleficent rose, her expression dangerous, eyes like ice.

“I am not here to give you a choice.”

Diaval wondering if Borra had any real concept of how unsuccessful he was likely to be in forcing Maleficent to do anything at all against her will.

“I will do no such thing.” Maleficent enunciated carefully, her voice low and threatening.

“He cannot possibly please you! He is a bird!”

“He pleases me very much.” Diaval, still eavesdropping, felt a bit gratified.

“What must I do to make you see reason? Must I put the bird-man in the ground beside the human you claimed as your own? Should I eliminate everything connecting you to the world beyond the Dark Fae to make you see that you do not belong among them? I thought that the death of your pet human would be enough, but clearly not! Cast aside the bird, or I will have to do it for you.”

Maleficent’s eyes were deadly, and torrents of green magic issued from her fingers. An icy chill fell across the room. “YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HIM.”

“If that is what it takes, then I will do what needs to be done!”

The magic surrounded her like a tornado, her face as dark as an avenging angel. Diaval’s heart was in his throat. With a screech of rage, Maleficent blasted Borra, knocking him to the ground, before taking off, flying from the chamber in incandescent fury.

Diaval alighted, circling Borra to ensure that he was still breathing, before following Maleficent. He flew out of the tunnels and into the sky, searching. A crackle of thunder drew his attention, and streaks of green lightning pierced the distant sky. He set off after her.

\---

Circling above the Moors, Diaval scoured the landscape for a sign that Maleficent had passed by. She had flown in this direction, and he could only assume that she had gone home, but he saw no trace of her. He flew eastward to the old growth forest, eyes on the ground, searching.

After several minutes, Diaval spied some hedgehog faeries scurrying westward. A moment later, he spotted a group of wallerbogs, and then several more faeries flittering rapidly – again, to the west. He continued east.

A deafening crash and a bloodcurdling screech of distraught fury gave him the final clues he needed. He landed on the branch of a newly-toppled tree, surveying the destruction before him. What had once been an acre of a beautiful forest was now a wasteland, a graveyard of fallen trees, and in the middle of the devastation stood Maleficent, swathed in eddies of iridescent emerald magic. She shrieked in rage and directed her magic to a surviving tree, uprooting it and sending it flying. In Maleficent terms, she was actually showing exemplary self-control, considering that her first instinct had most likely been to uproot Borra’s head from his body, but Maleficent’s version of self-control was still potentially deadly to anyone who might cross her path.

Diaval swallowed hard, knowing that he was about to willingly walk into a firestorm, and hoping that she would have enough restraint to keep from accidentally killing him. He transformed into a man. “Stop!” he called, his tone far braver than his feelings.

Maleficent stopped midway through uprooting another tree and whirled to face him. Her expression was terrible, her eyes colder than the deepest winter snow. She snarled.

“Please stop.” he begged her.

She stared at him for a long time, breathing hard, before turning her attention to the devastation she had caused in her wrath. Her shoulders slumped, and she fell to her knees. Diaval rushed to her side.

“I’ve done it again. I’ve destroyed everything that I should have been protecting. I left you alone and you could have been in danger.”

“It’s all right. You didn’t kill anyone. I’m proud of you.”

“The forest…”

“We can fix it. We’ll fix it.”

“Borra…”

“I know. I heard. He didn’t know I was there. I heard everything.”

“He called the Beastie my _pet human_.” Maleficent spat, her eyes filling with tears.

“I know. I wanted to peck his eyes out.” Diaval replied darkly. He was not generally a violent bird, but he had been sorely tempted.

Maleficent closed her eyes and turned her face skyward in anguish. When she opened her eyes again, they were wet.

“How does the sun continue to shine, Diaval? How does the world go on without her? Her smile, her joy?”

He bit his lower lip, which had begun to tremble. “I don’t know.”

“I cursed her to be loved by all who knew her, but I was cursing us without even knowing. We had no choice but to love her truly, and in losing her, all we have left is pain.”

Diaval inhaled deeply and shook his head. “No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I mean no, pain is not all we have left. Not at all. We had nearly a hundred years of her joy, and that has to be worth something.”

“Nothing is worth the pain of loss. Nothing.”

He regarded her gently, tearful eyes adoring. “Love is always worth the pain.” Maleficent opened her mouth to protest, and Diaval touched his fingertips to her lips. “I would take a thousand years of grief for one day of loving you. And even though we were always going to outlive Aurora, I gladly feel this grief, because it means that she was someone worth grieving for. Worth missing. Someone who changed my life for the better. And yours too, whether you want to admit that or not.”

“She saved me. I would have destroyed myself and everyone around me without her.”

“Loving her was worth it.”

Maleficent’s eyes filled with tears. “No. I can’t bear this.”

Diaval couldn’t think of a response. He shook his head and said nothing.

“He threatened you.” Maleficent whispered.

“He won’t hurt me. You’ll blast him into pieces if he tries.”

She snorted, the faintest smile gracing her lips at his assertion, before looking around them at the damage she had caused in her rage. “I need to fix this.” she said softly. She rose, placing her hand on the trunk of the nearest tree. Sparks of gold issued from her fingers, righting the tree and weaving the roots deeply into the soil.

Diaval stood, pulling a sapling upright with a rueful smile. Maleficent repaired the root system without looking; instead, she held Diaval’s warm gaze. For a hundred years, regardless of what she had done in fits of fury or incomparable anguish, he had stood by her and helped her to put things right once she had calmed. She appreciated it more than he would ever know.


	6. Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maleficent and Diaval pay a visit to Ulstead, only to wind up in a disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your positive feedback! I'm really enjoying writing this :)
> 
> For the record, we haven't heard the last of Borra, either!

**Chapter 6 - Despair**

“We should go to Ulstead. It’s been months since we saw James and Catrin.”

Diaval was taken aback. “What?”

“We should go to Ulstead. We haven’t seen them since…” Maleficent trailed off, before shaking her head and squaring her shoulders. “We haven’t seen them in several months. It has been too long.”

“Of course. You’re right. We can’t have the little ones forgetting great-great-grandfather Diaval, after all.”

“There will be another little one soon. Possibly already, it may be late enough in the season. I should make sure that they haven’t foolishly decided to name the child after you.”

Diaval preened. “Diaval would be an excellent choice, I should suggest that.”

“Vain creature. You would love that, wouldn’t you?”

Diaval raised his eyebrows at her, grinning sassily.

\---

The following sunrise saw Maleficent and Diaval soaring toward the kingdom of Ulstead, twirling and dipping above and below the fluffy cumulus clouds as they let the currents of rising warm air carry them along.

They flew effortlessly over the castle walls, startling several of the guards, before arriving at the entrance to the great hall. A flick of Maleficent’s hand sent the door creaking open, revealing several members of the Ulsteadan royal family midway through breakfast.

“Grandmother and Grandfather! I wondered if we would ever see you again!” King James called, grinning broadly, and rose to greet them. He embraced Diaval warmly before turning to Maleficent.

“Hello James. It’s been too long.”

King James chuckled and threw his arms around her, knowing that she was disinclined toward hugging and not caring in the slightest. Maleficent shook her head and stiffly returned his embrace, though she couldn’t help her slight smile.

“Come, sit! There is plenty to go around. What have you been doing with yourselves?” asked James, returning to his seat and spearing a pastry with his knife.

Maleficent and Diaval exchanged a look.

“Oh, you know, this and that.” Diaval stammered.

Maleficent raised an eyebrow, taking a bite from a large yellow pear. Diaval was certain that she was chewing as slowly as possible to prolong his discomfort.

“We’ve had a decent spring here.” James shared, “Even if it did start horribly. The crops have thrived, plenty of rain. The people seem very content. We have a new grandchild, and a great-grandchild coming early in the winter. Prince Harold has just promised to marry dear Isadore, although we have yet to announce that officially. I only hope that the summer is not too hot – it already seems to be very warm, even though it’s only the beginning of the season.”

Maleficent smiled patiently at James’ prattle. He had always been fond of idle chatter, even from the cradle. She looked across to James’ wife, Queen Catrin, who had an expression of tired sympathy on her face. “I think he missed you.” she whispered conspiratorially.

Diaval was endeavoring to sample as many of the dishes on the table as he could without exploding. At that moment, he was engaged in a staring contest with Prince Julian, James’ great-grandson, over a plate of blueberries. Diaval had attempted to help himself, but the five-year-old prince evidently believed that the blueberries were his alone. Now, the war was on, and Diaval was determined to keep from blinking. It was far easier to do as a raven.

“Diaval.”

“Wha- what?” Diaval was momentarily distracted, and as he looked away toward Maleficent, Julian swiped the entire plate of blueberries and started shoveling them into his mouth. Diaval looked back and pouted.

“I’m going to the south tower to meet the baby. Are you coming?”

“Oh, of course!” Diaval leapt up from the table, snatching one last pastry as he went.

\---

“Grandmother! Grandfather! How lovely to see you!” a melodic voice called from behind them. They turned to see Aurora’s youngest granddaughter beaming at them. In her arms lay a tiny bundle in a soft pink blanket.

“Leonora.” Maleficent swept toward the young woman with a smile. Diaval was a step behind her, and bent to kiss his great-granddaughter on the cheek.

“Is this your little baby?” he asked, a wondrous smile on his face.

“She is.” Leonora’s joy all but radiated from her features. “She was born at the equinox.” She looked down at the sleeping babe in her arms. “As she came so soon after losing Grandmother, it only seemed right that we name her Aurora.”

Maleficent took a sharp breath. Diaval’s hand quietly found hers, and he squeezed firmly. “That’s beautiful.” he said softly. “She’s beautiful. Look at her hair, it’s like a sunrise.” True enough; the baby’s hair was a vivid shade of red.

“Would you like to hold her?”

Maleficent looked stricken, still digesting the news of the baby’s name, but Diaval leapt at the chance. “Oh, yes please.”

Leonora placed her tiny daughter into Diaval’s waiting arms, and he cradled her close to his chest. “Hello there, little Aurora, aren’t you a darling wee thing?” he crooned, rocking her gently, feeling Maleficent’s eyes on him but not wanting to drag his gaze from the little one in his arms. “You’re just as beautiful as your namesake.”

“Indeed she is.” Maleficent spoke.

“Leonora? Do you have a moment?” A voice echoed from the antechamber.

“Of course, Mother.” she turned to Maleficent and Diaval. “I won’t be a moment. And I won’t try to prise Aurora from you yet, Grandfather.” With an indulgent smile, she went into the antechamber.

Diaval looked up to meet Maleficent’s eyes. “Do you want to hold her?”

Maleficent shook her head, taking half a step back as she did. “I can’t. I just…” she shook her head again, as though trying to shake out her very feelings, “Why Aurora? Any other name and it wouldn’t matter.”

“Because they loved her too. I think it’s a lovely gesture. This little tot will grow up hearing stories about her great-grandmother Aurora because of it, even though she missed out on meeting her by a handful of months.”

Maleficent regarded the baby. “At least she doesn’t look like Aurora. I don’t think I could have borne it if she had looked like her too. She’s beautiful, but not in the same way.”

Diaval smiled a faint, knowing smile at her. “Aurora grew on you. Aurora will too. That came out strangely. You know what I’m trying to say, though.”

“I do.” Maleficent reached out a single finger, stroking the child’s delicate nose. It was something, at least.

Diaval suddenly frowned. “Can you hear that?”

“The birds squawking outside? Yes, they’ve suddenly gone quite mad.”

“No, not the birds, that low rumble.”

“What low rumble?” She scowled. “Yes. Yes, I hear it now too. What is it?”

It was as though a giant creature had taken hold of the land itself and flung it down. A wave of movement knocked them to the floor, shattering the stained glass window on the opposite side of the room. As glass rained down to the flagstone, the world shuddered and rolled between their feet. Dust and stones began to burst from the walls.

Maleficent grabbed the baby from Diaval’s arms and took flight. “DIAVAL, FLY! INTO A BIRD!!” she cried, transforming him with a blast of magic before making a beeline for the window. Diaval swooped behind her, out into the open. Hovering above the castle, they could see the land undulating below them, dust billowing from collapsing buildings, trees swaying as the ground moved beneath them. From every direction came the sounds of screaming.

“An earthquake.” Maleficent gasped in horror, clutching the baby tightly to her chest.

“Awk! AWK AWK AWK!!” Diaval called, diving down to direct her attention. The north tower of the castle groaned, creaked, and collapsed to the ground, stones and mortar cascading to the courtyard below.

“Diaval! Come!” Maleficent ordered, and flew to the nearest open area she could find; the castle garden, far enough from the buildings and walls that nothing could collapse upon it. Dozens of people huddled together in fear as the shaking began to subside.

Landing, Maleficent transformed Diaval back into a man, and thrust the baby Aurora at him. “Take her. Ensure no harm comes to her. Help whomever you can.” No sooner had the words passed her lips than she was airborne again, straight to the south tower they had come from and in through the shattered window.

Diaval soothed the baby, who was beginning to cry, and began a round of the garden to check for injured. Before long, he heard the familiar beat of Maleficent’s wings, and she landed with a thump beside him. In her arms was an unconscious Leonora.

“Is she…?” Diaval asked, afraid of what the answer may be.

“She’s alive. Her leg is broken.” This much was clear, as her right leg was bent at an alarming angle. “I suspect that she is unconscious from shock. I can’t see any injuries to her head which would explain otherwise.” Maleficent lay Leonora gently on the ground. She laid her hand upon the injured leg, which straightened visibly as gold magic healed the worst of the damage. Maleficent flagged down one of the cowering ladies-in-waiting. “See to the princess. I need to go back inside.”

Over the ensuing hours, Maleficent flew dozens of survivors from the castle and surrounding buildings. Members of the royal family lay groaning beside staff and villagers, united in their horror and pain. The uninjured tended them as best they could, but Diaval knew that they would be better helped with the additional abilities of the Moorfolk. He entrusted the baby to Leonora’s lady-in-waiting and took to the skies to find as many magic creatures as he could find.

\---

The earthquake had struck the Moors as well, felling trees and freeing boulders to crash to the ground below. A number of Moorfolk were hurt, but by the time Diaval landed heavily in a clearing, most had sought help for their injuries. Mercifully, or perhaps miraculously, there were no fatalities among the fair folk.

Several dozen of the faeries and pixies, as well as a few of the Dark Fae who had made their home in the Moors long ago, agreed to come back to Ulstead with him, and they set out immediately. Even so, the sun dipped low in the sky by the time they made it back to the castle.

As the Moorfolk spread out among the injured and began to tend them, Diaval searched for Maleficent. He saw Leonora, who had thankfully come to, cradling her little daughter. He saw King James, covered in dust and debris, but alive. He saw parents holding crying children, brothers embracing brothers, lovers joining furiously from the desperate terror of what they had experienced that day.

He did not see Maleficent.

Circling around, he spotted another group of people, laying on the ground, side by side. Unlike the crowd in the garden, these people were horrifyingly still. Diaval realized that these were the poor souls who did not survive at the same moment as he recognized the kindly face of Queen Catrin among them, her warm smile forever stilled. With a pang of grief, he squawked and kept circling, praying that Maleficent did not lie among the bodies below him.

On his third pass over the small graveyard in which lay Ulstead royalty from centuries past, he spotted a grey stone angel laying prostrate on the stone slab under which Aurora lay forever sleeping. It was only when he flew closer to investigate that he realized that it was not a stone angel at all.

Maleficent lay upon Aurora’s grave, caked in stone dust. She was uniformly grey, except for the twin tear tracks which ran down each cheek. Her strange eyes stood out all the more against the grey, sorrowful and haunted. Diaval landed beside her and transformed into a man, enveloping her in his arms before they had even completely changed.

“I tried to save them.” she whispered in a barely audible tone. Her voice was hoarse from the dust. “I couldn’t save them all. The stones fell and crushed them. There was nothing I could do.”

Diaval held her even tighter. “You saved so many. Little Aurora has her life and her mother because of you. You did all you could.”

Maleficent looked to the ruins of the castle. “It will take years for them to repair the damage done today.”

“I called together some of the Moorfolk to help. They’re tending the injured, but I’m sure they would be willing to help in rebuilding. It will be faster with magic.”

Maleficent nodded slightly, then rose from his embrace. She reached toward the garden, magic swirling from her fingertips, and vines began to snake from the ground. They twined together and upwards, merging and thickening, until they had shaped themselves into a series of makeshift huts.

“They have shelter for tonight." she croaked. "It’s a start.”


	7. Renewal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maleficent has a deep and meaningful with Aurora's grave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be the last update in a few days - I have no time to write on the weekends, and especially as this one will be busy. I'll get cracking on continuing the story and tying up some of the loose ends next week. This is shaping up to be around the ten chapter mark, but I won't know until it's finished. It was originally going to be about three...!

**Chapter 7 – Renewal**

The sun had long set when Diaval finally limped across the graveyard toward the willow tree in which Maleficent had hastily erected a temporary nest. He wore the form of an oxen, having spent most of the day hauling stones and other large rubble into an ever-growing pile of detritus in the far corner of the castle grounds.

Reaching the base of the tree, he transformed into a raven in order to fly up to the nest, but found very quickly that his left wing would not behave correctly, and every movement sent a searing pain through it. He flapped about pathetically on the ground, barely able to rise more than a few inches before falling back down again.

He heard soft footfalls approaching and a shadow fell across him, blocking out the moonlight. Gentle hands picked him up and he squawked in surprise, struggling against them. 

“Calm down, Diaval. It’s only me.”

Maleficent held him close and flew them both up to the nest in the willow.

“Into a man. What have you done to yourself?”

Diaval grimaced. “I was hauling stones to the rubble pile and one was really heavy. I felt something _go_, kind of like a pop, but I pushed through it. Then I felt it _really_ go.”

Maleficent shook her head. “Ulstead needs rebuilding, but not to the extent that you’re injuring yourself over it.”

“Ha! That’s rich, coming from you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking so…” he wanted to say ‘haggard’, but valued his life, “…exhausted. You’re working yourself too hard, so you don’t get to tell me off for doing the same thing.”

It was true enough; he had hardly seen her in the weeks since the earthquake. She had usually long left the nest by the time he awoke, and frequently did not return until after he was asleep. The few times that he had come back after her, he had found her unconscious from fatigue, sometimes without having even undressed for sleep. These were the nights that he slept in his bird form, not wanting to disturb her. He missed her.

Maleficent motioned to him to let her see his damaged arm.

“It’s okay, I’m sure it’ll be fine by morning. You’ve been using magic all day. Rest.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Let me see.”

Diaval obliged, wincing as she manipulated the injured limb. “It’s just a little sore. I’ve probably just pulled a muscle.”

“You certainly have. You’ve pulled a muscle away from the bone, I think.”

“…oh. That’s bad, isn’t it?”

Maleficent gave him a serious look. “If I don’t heal it, you may never fly properly again.”

Diaval’s eyes were like saucers and he thrust his arm toward her, all protests forgotten. She laid her hands over the site of the injury and gold magic began to flow into his arm, warm and tingly. He could feel the muscle moving back into place and knitting back to the bone. Aside from a residual ache, the pain ceased.

Maleficent smiled. “See? Easy.”

Diaval flexed his arm gratefully.

“Don’t do it again. You’re well within your rights to say that the stones are too heavy.” She sank to the floor of the nest, exhausted.

“You’re well within your rights to tell them that you can magic their kingdom right tomorrow, too.”

She blinked at him sleepily. “The sooner it’s back as it was, the sooner we can go home.”

Diaval nodded in understanding. Ulstead was fine to visit, but it was nothing compared to the Moors. In particular, he couldn’t quite fathom how _hot_ it was, with the summer sun baking into the exposed stones and brickwork, unlike the gentle warmth of the Moors, cooled by shady trees and fresh breezes.

Maleficent was almost asleep sitting up. Diaval tenderly unwrapped her horns and hair from their bindings and laid her down in the nest, suspecting that she had succumbed to slumber before her head had made contact with the soft moss growing there. He laid beside her carefully, ensuring that he wasn’t laying on her wing, put an arm around her waist, and drifted off too.

\---

Diaval woke early the following morning, just as the sky was beginning to lighten, but Maleficent was nowhere to be seen. He transformed into a raven, intending to look for her, but he had barely alighted from the nest before he realized where she was.

Maleficent sat on Aurora’s grave, her voice carrying softly in the morning air. Diaval strained to hear.

“…glad that you weren’t around to see this, in a way. It would have been horrible for you to see this devastation and not be able to do anything to help. To see your son so felled with grief for his wife, and your grandchildren for their mother. It’s as though he’s only half of himself now. He hasn’t smiled at anything since Catrin died. I miss his smile – it reminds me of yours. And I miss your smile, more than I can possibly say.” Maleficent inclined her head, and spoke even more quietly, “I miss you. I miss you so much. There is so much joy missing from the world now that even that which should be joyful cannot match what there once was. There are children born, and I fear them instead of greeting them with happiness as I did when you were alive. I can’t imagine a greater pain than the loss I have felt in these months since you left us forever, and so I fear letting myself love anyone in the same way. Diaval may live as long as I, so I suppose he is different, but these new little ones who will live a human lifespan and then wither away into death? I cannot allow it. I want to love them, but I can’t. I won’t. Nobody but Diaval, ever again, and only he because I should die first and never have to mourn him.”

Diaval desperately wanted to hold her, but good sense told him that intruding on such a private moment would not be well received. He had rarely heard Maleficent speak so candidly; in fact, the last time he recalled was when Aurora lay in her death sleep before Maleficent’s kiss awoke her, decades before.

“I will help to rebuild Ulstead, because I know that is what you would have hoped for. Then Diaval and I will return home to the Moors. I don’t know when, or if, we’ll be back again. Perhaps we will return when the newest child is christened in the winter… although I suppose we will see how things are then.”

She was silent for several minutes before speaking again, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’m afraid. I’m afraid of loving anyone else as much as I loved you. My heart has been torn in two and each day that dawns brings grief anew. I wonder if it will ever stop feeling so painful and raw.” Her voice dropped to the faintest whisper. “I’m so afraid.”

A tear coursed down her cheek, and she wiped it away furiously. Maleficent leapt to her feet and took to the air, spiraling upwards into the clouds above.


	8. Heat

**Chapter 8 - Heat**

With a satisfied grunt, Diaval transformed back into a man and grinned in triumph as the last of the fallen stones landed in the rubble pile. Although rebuilding would take many more months, it could now commence in earnest with the worst of the debris out of the way. Already the carpenters and stonemasons were building scaffolding and chipping away at the salvageable blocks of stone, and the surviving areas of the castle were being surveyed, repaired, and reinhabited.

The surrounding village was beginning to regain a thriving atmosphere as well. The wooden houses of the townsfolk had withstood the earthquake far better than the tall stone castle, and so the rebuilding efforts were well along. Maleficent had helped along the way, and dotted around the town were houses now propped up by living trees and roofed with interlocking branches. Most of the townspeople were grateful to have shelter in any form, although there was some disgruntled muttering from some of the more elderly residents, who were unimpressed by the mischievous squirrels who now resided with them.

Diaval went to find Maleficent, locating her about ten minutes later in the courtyard. She was levitating a large block of stone back into place midway up the north tower. He stood behind her, waiting until she was done.

“How is the clean up going?” she asked without turning around.

“The largest rubble has all been moved. The stonemasons are going through the pile to see if any of the stone can be salvaged, and then I suppose they’ll start quarrying some new stuff to rebuild.”

“All moved? You’ve done well.”

“I didn’t do it all by myself.”

“You did a lot of it. More than most.”

“Not more than you.”

She didn’t respond to that.

“I was wondering if maybe it’s time we thought about going home.” Diaval said.

Maleficent looked up at the half-completed north tower. “There’s still so much left to do.”

“You don’t have to do it all. The humans can handle it from here. We’ve been here for two months already and I don’t know about you, but I miss the Moors terribly. I miss the trees.”

He could tell from her wistful expression that she missed their home every bit as much as he did. “Soon.” she replied. “We’ll go home soon.”

\---

The night was stiflingly hot. Maleficent lay naked in the nest, her wings spread as widely as was comfortable for her to keep them from overheating her. She flapped them occasionally, sending a burst of fresh air around them, but the effect was short-lived, and she was far too hot to put any real effort into sustaining it. Diaval, too, had forsaken clothing, choosing to sleep as a human to avoid having to deal with the insulating effects of his feathers.

“I’m dying. I’m actually dying.” he moped theatrically, kneeling and windmilling his arms to try and force some airflow. Maleficent opened her eyes slightly, gave him a disdainful look, and closed them again.

“How can anyone live here comfortably in this?”

“We’re going home in a few days. We can go home now, if you’d prefer.”

Diaval flopped down beside her and closed his eyes. He sighed deeply, trying to compel himself to fall asleep. He may have had a chance at succeeding but for Maleficent’s index finger, which had slowly begun to trace over the scars on his throat and chest. He took another deep breath, surprised at how ragged it sounded.

Maleficent’s finger continued its slow route along the marks on his body, down his chest and stomach, to the scars around his legs and groin that few but she had ever seen. Though he was feigning indifference and pretending to sleep, he could not hide the effect that she was having on him, and he felt her smile as her lips began to trace the same course as her finger had. His breathing quickened as she kissed her way down his body, all the way down to his thighs. She trailed featherlight kisses along them, teasing him by deliberately ignoring the one place he craved her touch the most. 

Diaval whimpered, feeling her smile victoriously once again before taking him slowly into her mouth, running her tongue along the swollen tip of his organ. He made a noise somewhere between a groan and a cry, and she moved up and down along his length, alternating between gently sucking and licking for several long, rapturous minutes. His hand found her hair and he tangled his fingers into it, forcing his eyes open. He looked down to her, meeting her sultry gaze, her crimson lips surrounding him. The view alone as almost enough to destroy him. He moaned incoherently, trying to control his hips to keep from hurting her, his breath coming in rasping pants as he rapidly approached his climax. 

“Please,” he gasped, “Please, I can’t… you have to stop. Feels too good. I can’t…” Against every desire of his body, Diaval eased Maleficent from his man-organ, rolling her over and stifling her protests with his mouth. He wanted to touch her everywhere all at once, his hands and lips roaming along her lithe body in worship, his knee skilfully spreading her thighs. 

She moaned, and suddenly pushed him over, gaining the upper hand again. She nipped at his mouth with her sharp fangs, moving her hips in delicious circles over his swollen organ, teasing and tempting him into insanity. 

Diaval raised himself up to press a desperate kiss to Maleficent’s slender throat, and she shifted slightly, taking him into her with a soft cry of delight. He inhaled sharply, a smile of utter joy lighting up his face, and he kissed her again, deeply and longingly.

Maleficent began a languid rhythm, moving until they were almost parted before sinking down onto him again, Diaval rising to meet her, his hands on her hips. He groaned, speeding up, knowing that he wasn’t going to last long but unable to stop himself. His breath came in desperate pants as he lost control, spiraling into ecstasy, thrusting deeply inside her as he reached his release.

Diaval wanted to say something, but his mouth seemed to have forgotten how to make words. Maleficent held him as he caught his breath, her fingers tracing small circles through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

He eased her down into the nest, withdrawing from her inviting warmth. She protested, but her words were cut short as his mouth moved to her center and his tongue found the little nub hiding there. He lapped at it, moving his tongue in tiny circles. Maleficent moaned in bliss as Diaval brought her closer and closer to the edge, gently alternating between licking and sucking, reveling in the knowledge that he alone knew just what drove her wild. He kept up a steady rhythm as she began to shake and groan, crying out his name in rapture.

Diaval trailed kisses up Maleficent’s body, reaching her lips and capturing them tenderly. He held her close for only a few seconds before they both had to admit it was far too hot to be that close to each other. Diaval was disappointed – he enjoyed their post-mating cuddles as much as he loved mating with her itself, as though making up for all the years he longed to hold her but couldn’t, but the wonderful thing was that there would always be another day. He smiled.

Maleficent quickly drifted into slumber, but Diaval lay awake, staring at the clear night sky above. The stars twinkled above him, numbering in their thousands, and he passed the time by making patterns.

Unable to fall asleep, he pulled on his pants and quietly left the nest, making his way through the graveyard. He wasn’t even sure where he was going until he was there, standing at the foot of Aurora’s grave.

“Hello Aurora.” he said softly. He sat down on her grave, reaching out to touch the headstone as though it were a vestige of his adopted daughter.

“You were right, you know. You were always right about matters of the heart. ‘You should tell her, Diaval! She loves you too, she just too afraid to admit it! You two are perfect together! You’d make the cutest babies!’ I don’t know about that last bit, mind you, you got a bit silly about it sometimes. You were right about us, though. I wish you’d lived long enough to know that. Although really, I don’t think either us would have been brave enough to take the next step had we not been so broken from losing you. I think you brought us together after all that, without even knowing.”

Diaval wiped away a tear which threatened to fall. “We’re going home in a few days. Ulstead is well on the way to recovery, and no doubt Maleficent is needed back at the Moors. Me, probably not so much, but I miss home. We’ll probably have to work in some time with the Dark Fae as well.” He sighed. “She’s so tired. I don’t think she’s really stopped to rest since you died. I don’t think she’s eating enough, either. I wish you were here, she’d probably listen to you telling her to take better care of herself. Maybe. Although she’s not that great at listening to anyone, truthfully.”

Diaval sat quietly for some time. The stars circled the sky overhead and the leaves of the willow rustled softly in the gentle breeze. All at once he felt a deep fatigue throughout his body. 

He touched Aurora’s headstone one last time, transformed into a raven, and flew back to the nest.


	9. Dread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter in less than a day? Don't mind if I do!

**Chapter 9 – Dread**

Diaval awoke on the morning of their departure with his head pounding as though he’d partaken in far too much mead. Maleficent had already left the nest, no doubt to say her goodbyes to James and his family, so Diaval slowly hauled himself up to find them all. He felt a little bit dizzy.

She was in the rebuilt great hall with James, Leonora and little Aurora, taking her leave. Leonora had just forced the baby into Maleficent’s arms, grinning broadly, and Maleficent was trying to control her instinct to force Aurora right back. She looked rather alarmed.

“Come on, Grandmother, you probably won’t see her again until her christening, and that’s going to be months away. We have to rebuild the chapel, and we’ll probably have to wait until Princess Alice’s baby arrives in the winter and christen them together at the rate that’s going. She’ll have a few teeth and probably be crawling by the time you next get to have a cuddle, so enjoy it whilst you can!”

Maleficent smiled awkwardly at Leonora’s relentless cheerfulness and looked down at the baby in her arms. She had lost the scrawny newborn look that she had had when they had first met her, and was now a chubby, delightful little creature with enormous brown eyes and titian hair that was already beginning to curl. Aurora gurgled happily at her great-great grandmother, and Diaval saw the walls beginning to crumble. Maleficent’s stiff posture relaxed and she started unconsciously rocking the baby.

He chose that moment to announce himself, dragging himself into the room.

“Are you all right, Diaval?”

“Uh, sure. I’m fine. Just a bit of a sore head this morning. I’ll be fine once we’re up in the fresh air.”

“We had probably best set off, especially if you’re not feeling well. Leonora?” Maleficent offered the baby back to her mother.

“Are you sure that you want to leave straight away? You’re looking very comfortable there, Grandmother!” Leonora let out a hearty laugh, and the corners of Diaval’s mouth started to turn up in spite of himself, but Maleficent’s eyes were wide in terror. She shoved the baby back to Leonora.

“It’s time to go. Now. James, please send word of when the christening is to be held, and Diaval and I will endeavor to attend, but we must get back to the Moors. Right now.” She flicked her hand and Diaval felt himself shrink, his nose morphing into a beak and his arms into wings. He squawked in surprise.

Maleficent swept through the doorway, taking off as soon as she was clear of the building. Diaval had to fly much harder than he would have preferred to in order to catch up to her.

\---

No sooner did Diaval transform back into a man than he realized that something was very, very wrong.

It was past midsummer and the day was warm, but he felt chilled to the bone. His head was pounding far worse than it had been when they had left Ulstead. He located the pile of blankets that Maleficent always kept handy for those winter nights in which closing up the top of the nest did little to hold back the cold, and wrapped one around himself, then another. Still, he shivered.

“I’m going to do a circuit of the Moors and see what sort of mayhem our absence has wrought, and then…” Maleficent trailed off as she caught sight of him. “Diaval? Are you ill?”

He looked up at her with glassy eyes, pale as death. “I feel terrible. I’m so cold.”

Maleficent touched his forehead. “No you’re not. You have a fever. Lie down immediately.”

Diaval acquiesced without argument, pulling the blankets up to his chin. 

“No backchat? You must be feeling terrible.”

“I had a sore head when we left Ulstead, but nothing like this.” he said weakly.

“You’ve probably caught some horrible human disease. Some of those peasants looked as though they hadn’t washed in years.”

Diaval coughed deeply, and Maleficent frowned.

“Will you be all right if I go and gather some things to help you?” Diaval nodded, closing his eyes… just for a minute…

\---

He awoke to the walls of the nest lighting up gold as Maleficent waved her hand over a clay jug, heating the contents. She poured some into a cup and brought it to him, lifting his head and holding it to his lips.

“Drink this. It should help with the fever.”

“What is it?” Diaval slurred.

“It’s a tonic, mostly lilac, but with a few other things as well. It should bring the fever down. Drink it.”

Diaval choked down the foul liquid, then started coughing violently, bringing it all back up again.

“That’s disgusting.” Maleficent muttered, cleaning Diaval, the blankets and her skirt with a flick of her wrist. Diaval lay down again.

“I can’t even change myself right now. I’d probably feel better as a bird…” he mumbled.

“No!” Maleficent said in alarm. “You must_ not_ change right now.”

“Why not…?”

“You had a headache. Then you became a raven, and when you changed into a man again, you were violently ill. Whatever this illness is, it became worse after you were physically smaller and less able to fight it. Do not change yourself. You’ll only get worse.”

Diaval tried to respond, but he just coughed, and coughed, and coughed.

\---

He wasn’t sure how many days had passed. His fever remained high, and everything was something of a blur. He was vaguely aware of Maleficent sponging his body and lips with cool water, his chest throbbing from coughing, strange shapes in the sky which she assured him were not actually there. He thought he’d heard her vomiting. He knew he’d heard her crying. He was completely certain that at one point, he’d heard her beg him not to die and leave her too, and that had frightened him. If she thought he was going to die, did that mean that he was in danger of it? 

He slipped in and out of consciousness as the illness ravaged his body, until one morning he awoke drenched in sweat and more lucid than he had been in days. Maleficent was watching him, her expression unreadable.

“Am I dead?” he rasped.

“Not entirely, although you gave it an excellent try.”

Her face was drawn and weary, her loose hair unkempt and her clothes uncharacteristically crumpled. Her wings were in dire need of preening. She looked as though she hadn’t slept in days, and he realized with a pang of guilt that she likely hadn’t. She reached out to touch his brow.

“The fever has broken overnight. At last.” Maleficent breathed a sigh of relief.

“How long has it been?”

“Five days.”

Diaval hadn’t realized it had been that long. He must have been very sick indeed.

“Have you been ill?”

“No. I’m not certain, but I think you may have had some sort of infection of the lungs, which was not necessarily of any danger to me. Mind you, my magic affords some level of protection anyway.”

Diaval frowned. “But I thought I heard you at one point–”

Maleficent shook her head and said firmly, “I was quite anxious and concerned for your welfare. Nothing more.”

Diaval narrowed his eyes. Perhaps he’d been hearing things. He’d certainly been seeing things, so it wasn’t impossible.

“I’m going to make you something to drink. You’ve been so unwell that I’m loathe to give you anything solid for a day or two.” Maleficent busied herself with a pile of roots, shoots and flowers, slicing them into pieces and simmering them in the clay jug with her magic, making a broth. Diaval eyed it warily when she brought a cup to him; the last time she had tried to make him drink something, it hadn’t ended well.

To his surprise, the broth tasted quite good, although he was concerned that his illness had left him so weak that Maleficent had to prop him up in order to drink it. He could only manage a little before he became lightheaded and had to lay down again. It took over an hour, on and off, but he eventually finished the broth and felt rather better for it.

\---

Diaval was not made for lying around idly. Though out of the worst, he was still weak, and Maleficent had forbidden him to leave the nest under pain of making her very angry with his foolishness, but he wasn’t sure that he would have been able to go far anyway. He was bored, and now that he wasn’t in imminent danger of death, lonely, because Maleficent had deemed it safe enough to leave him for periods of time to return to her duties as the guardian of the Moors.

He whiled away the hours stretching, trying to regain some strength in his limbs, aghast at how thin his arms and legs now appeared. He had always been light-bodied as a man – bird-bodied, as it were – but he had lost an alarming amount of weight in a short time.

He also amused himself by coming up with silly poems and ditties about the Moors, the people he knew, and people he didn’t especially like.

_“I know of a Dark Fae named Borra,_

_And Maleficent thinks he’s a horror._

_At me he will glower,_

_He’s in love with her power_

_But I’m the one with her tomorra.”_

He laughed at his own joke before staring dully at the clouds. It looked like it might rain. He hoped that Maleficent returned to the nest to grow a roof over it before it started pouring.

\---

She didn’t.

Diaval crouched under a pile of blankets as rain came down in sheets around him, turning the late afternoon to night. Lightning pierced the sky and thunder rolled deafeningly across the landscape. He hoped that she was all right. It was most likely that she had been caught a distance away, and it was not safe to fly in weather such as this, but he was still concerned.

The nest shook, and Diaval poked his head out of the blanket. Maleficent knelt there in front of him, drenched to the skin and looking extremely annoyed. She raised her hands above her head and coaxed the branches of the tree to grow over the top of the nest, thick with leaves. The torrential downpour ceased, at least for them.

“Lovely afternoon out.” Diaval smirked.

Maleficent glared at him through the drips running down her face.

Unintimidated, Diaval grinned at her. “Do you have a drying-off spell?”

“Perhaps not for you.”

Diaval stuck his lower lip out and made puppy-dog eyes. “But what if I get horribly sick again? I’m _convalescing_. You need to look after me.”

Maleficent rolled her eyes, but flicked her hand toward him. He was surrounded by warmth as her magic evaporated the rain from his hair and clothing. It was actually rather nice, and he missed the sensation when it was gone. Maleficent turned her attention to herself, drying her clothes and wings and unwrapping her hair and horns, before making the rest of the nest a bit less of a puddle as well.

“Where have you been? You’ve been gone all day.”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why not? Did something happen?”

“You’ll laugh. Then I’ll have to turn you into a slug.”

“Now you _have_ to tell me.” Diaval sidled up to Maleficent with a cheeky expression on his face. “Come on, tell me what kept you so long…”

She looked pained. “Fine.”

Diaval settled before her like a child waiting for a bedtime story.

“I was on the far west side of the Moors. Several of the mushroom faeries seemed convinced that there had been a human incursion there, and so I went to investigate. When I got there, there was definite evidence of something having been there, but there was no way to tell what sort of creature it may have been. It was mostly things like broken branches, rocks that had been tipped as though they were kicked out of the way, things like that. After about an hour, I found a single footprint. Human, or possibly Fae, it wasn’t possible to tell from just a mark in the mud, but it lent some credence to what the mushroom faeries had told me.”

“A bare footprint or one in a shoe?”

“A bare one.”

“That eliminates soldiers or anyone who isn’t a peasant if the prints were made by a human.” Diaval mused.

“They weren’t made by a human.” Maleficent answered.

“How do you know? You just said it wasn’t possible to tell.”

“I went a little further. There’s a little rock pool, kind of a spring which bubbles out of the ground. You’ve probably been there before, you’ve been everywhere. At the edge of the pool, on one of the rocks, I saw a feather.” Maleficent stopped.

“And?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t want to tell you this part.”

Diaval just looked at her and waited.

Maleficent sighed. “I reached for the feather to have a closer look.”

“And?”

“And I suppose I had a bit of a dizzy spell of sorts. I lost my balance.”

Diaval stared at her, and a grin spread clear across his face. “You fell in the pool.”

She glowered.

“You did, you fell in the pool, didn’t you?”

“…yes.” Maleficent muttered through gritted teeth. Diaval howled with laughter, the mental image of Maleficent toppling unceremoniously into a forest spring about the most hysterical thing he’d imagined in a very long time. It was several minutes before he could get himself under control, and only then because his laughter triggered a coughing fit.

“I knew you’d laugh. Horrible bird. The water was freezing. And of course, then it started raining, so I couldn’t even dry myself and fly home. I had to walk for three hours to get back here.”

Diaval suddenly found the situation a lot less funny. “You were freezing and wet and walking for _three hours_? And you had a dizzy spell? I hope you’re not getting sick too.”

“The rain was actually lovely and warm by comparison.”

“Even so. Maybe you should lie down and rest, just in case.”

Maleficent shook her head and reached into the pocket of her dress, pulling out a long brown feather. “Does this look familiar to you?”

Diaval cocked his head, eyeing the feather. “It looks a bit like yours.”

“It’s not mine, though.”

“It’s a Dark Fae feather.”

“I think so.”

“Could it be from one of the Fae from the hills?” he asked.

“Possibly, but I find it hard to believe that they would do so much damage. The Moors are their home now, and they have always been respectful. We’ve not had a problem in the eighty years they’ve lived here.”

“So where did it come from?”

Maleficent regarded the feather, twirling it between her fingers. “I don’t know.”


	10. Rumors

**Chapter 10 – Rumors**

Diaval seldom listened to the idle chatter of the pixies – most of it was squabbling anyway – but one humid afternoon he found himself paying attention to the gossip of four of the young ones who had gathered around the wallerbogs’ mud pool.

“They flew above the trees and blocked out the sun with their shadows. They were circling around, as though they were _looking_ for something!” chirped Farmeadow.

“Or some_one_.” Daisyleaf added with a theatrical whisper.

“But who would they be looking for? Surely if they were looking for Maleficent, they would know where to find her?” asked Flutterrose. “Everyone knows where her nest is. If she’s not there, she’ll come back at some point.”

“Maybe they’re not looking for Maleficent then.” added Ivybranch sagely. “Maybe they’re looking for someone else.”

He couldn’t help himself – he had to know. “What are you talking about?”

The pixies’ eyes lit up and they flew at him, surrounding him and flitting about in front of his face.

“There were Dark Fae!”

“Like Maleficent, and the Fae who live on the hills above us…”

“But none that we recognized!”

“They were circling just above the treetops!”

“I think they were looking for someone!”

“But it couldn’t be Maleficent, she’s easy to find!”

“So it must be someone else!”

Diaval’s head was spinning. He flapped his hands in front of his face to shoo the pixies away. “How many were there?”

“There were three.”

“No, there were four.”

“I’m sure there were three.”

“Well _I_ counted five!”

“It doesn’t matter!” Diaval interjected, “Three, four, five, whatever! Do you remember if they had a leader? What did they look like?”

“The one that seemed to be in charge was pale, with dark horns. The others were different, brown, darker, and there was one that looked like a rainbow. Very pretty. But they gave me chills.”

Diaval thanked the pixies, who beamed at him, before transforming into a raven to find Maleficent and let her know.

\---

It took him over an hour to find her, which was unusual in itself, but when he found her he was quite surprised. She had tucked herself into the fork of a large tree, and had fallen asleep in the shade, one slender hand dangling down below the branches. He landed above her, cocking his head and watching her regular breathing. Was she ill? Had she succumbed to the disease that had felled him after all? Her color was normal – she was always pale, but she didn’t appear sickly pale – and his sensitive raven nostrils couldn’t detect an odor of malaise. Had he shoulders in this form, he would have shrugged. It had been some weeks since their return to the Moors, but perhaps she was still worn out after helping to rescue and rebuild Ulstead, and then caring for him for days on end when he was so unwell.

“Awk.” he squawked, waking her. She blinked rapidly, somewhat disoriented.

“Diaval.”

He transformed into a man, clinging to the branch for dear life. “I have some information.”

“Oh?”

“It might not be anything to concern yourself about. It’s very possible that it’s entirely innocent, and that the pixies are just gossiping about nothing as pixies do…” he swallowed hard, “Or maybe it is something, but not the sort of something that is going to cause any problems, so the last thing we want here is for you to respond _excessively_, but…”

“Out with it, Diaval.”

“The pixies have seen several Dark Fae above the Moors. They claim to not recognize them as the ones who live in the hills. They said they felt intimidated by them, and that they appeared to be searching for something. Or someone.”

Maleficent sat bolt upright. “Did they describe them to you?”

“…yes.”

“And?”

Diaval sighed. This was not going to end well. “From their description of the leader, it sounded like it might have been Borra.” She was starting to extract herself from the tree fork. “Please don’t fly away and hunt him down before we know the whole story.”

Maleficent sat back down and glared at him. “Do you honestly believe that he’s here with good intentions? The last time we spoke, and I use the term loosely, he threatened to kill you and I blasted him to the ground.”

“That’s true, but it’s all the more reason to approach this calmly. We don’t want to make the situation any worse.”

“What would you suggest?”

“What?”

“What would you suggest I do?”

“You’re asking my opinion? Are you feeling all right?”

Maleficent glowered at him and said nothing.

“Okay…” Diaval began, “I would suggest, and it’s just a suggestion, mind you, that we keep an ear to the ground and see if anyone else has seen these mystery Dark Fae. Get the Moorfolk to keep an eye out and report back anything they see or hear.”

Maleficent considered his words. “Okay. That sounds fair.”

“What?”

“Go and gather whatever information you can from the fair folk. I will go to the Fae in the hills and see if they can tell me anything.” She stood, spreading her wings. “Is that okay?”

“Of course.” Diaval said, somewhat shocked that she’d agreed to his plan without so much as a questionable look. He was itching to check for signs of fever.

Maleficent leapt from the tree and into the air, arcing toward the hilltops and the homes of the forest Dark Fae. Diaval watched her until she was out of sight, then changed back into a bird and swept away to see what the fair folk had to say.

\---

“The Dark Fae of the hills know nothing and have seen nothing. They’ve not left the area – other than the skies, of course – since they returned home from helping in Ulstead. None of them have been in the far west since before the winter.”

“So it wasn’t their feather at the rock pool. There’s no way it would have sat on a rock without blowing or washing off for eight or nine months.” Diaval sighed. “I was really hoping that it was just a misunderstanding and that the pixies are just idiots.”

“They _are_ idiots. These things are not mutually exclusive.”

“I would have thought that Borra would have gotten the message when you almost blasted him into oblivion. I guess the pixies aren’t the only idiots.”

Maleficent stared into the distance, her eyes unfocused, thinking. Diaval watched and waited. Finally, she turned to him. “We have to move.”

“Move?”

“Our nest is not especially defensible. If Borra is planning something – and I think we can safely assume that he is not doing aerial sweeps of the Moors for a social visit – then we need to be in a safer location. Particularly at night.” She turned, then apparently made a decision, walking briskly through the trees.

“Where are you going?”

She stopped and turned to face him. “Somewhere I never thought I’d have to go back to.”

Diaval blinked, confused, before realizing what she meant. “The castle ruins? Are you sure? There isn’t somewhere else?”

“I don’t know that Borra will think to look for us there. The walls are stronger than the walls of a nest. I don’t _want_ to go back there, but until we can resolve whatever is going on with Borra and are certain that there is no threat to either of us, then I can’t see that there is much of a choice.”

Maleficent turned on her heel and strode in the direction of the ruined castle, a relic of a past she would much preferred to have forgotten.


	11. Rage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh yes, another chapter! I'd like to thank my plate of spaghetti bolognese for getting me through to the end of this.
> 
> Thank you all for your lovely comments and kudos! I hope this is going the way you're hoping it will!

**Chapter 11 - Rage**

“There are broken branches over here as well.” Diaval called out, examining a snapped section more closely. “This took some force.” he muttered to himself.

“It looks as though every rock around here has been used for target practice.” Maleficent commented. “They should be moss-side-up, but very few seem undisturbed. There’s a pile over there which have scorch marks on them.” She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like this.”

“It doesn’t seem very Fae-like to be causing this much damage.” Diaval said with a frown.

“It seems almost too much destruction for a single Fae, even one as strong as Borra.”

“You could do it, though.”

Maleficent hesitated. “Well yes, _I_ could, but I’m far more powerful than the others. Any other Fae would struggle to do what I do easily.”

“The pixies seemed to think that there were several Dark Fae, although they couldn’t decide on whether it was three, four or five. It’s probably all of them doing this if it’s too much for one. I don’t understand why, though. We’re not seeing them, but this is what, the eighth damaged area that we’ve found this week?”

“The ninth. Unfortunately, you and I alone cannot be everywhere in the Moors at once, especially now that we’re not actually sleeping here, and they seem to be moving around constantly.” Maleficent tilted her chin toward the sky. “Speaking of which, it’s getting late. We should start back for the castle before it gets too dark to fly between the trees-”

An ear-splitting crash interrupted her words. “What was _that_?”

She took off toward the source of the sound, which came again and again at irregular intervals. Diaval followed a few steps behind. He jumped and dodged around rocks and roots, but misjudged his footing, tripping over. Maleficent disappeared into the woods ahead.

He transformed into a bird and flew rapidly through the trees, trying to catch her up. The crashing noises had stopped and he had lost his bearings, but he was hoping to find her nearby.

“What are you doing?” came Maleficent’s voice from through the trees, strong and unyielding. “What is this destruction? Who are you?”

“Maleficent…” one of them whispered.

“It’s her…” hissed the second.

“What do we do?” asked the third, sounding very afraid.

“Leave the Moors immediately. You have no right to be here if you intend to cause this sort of damage.” Maleficent ordered. Diaval quietly hopped to the branch of a nearby tree so that he could see properly.

They were Fae. Very young – barely into adulthood, and possibly not even quite that old. One was the vivid rainbow of the Rainforest Fae, another was clearly from the Tundra, and the last could have been Maleficent’s sister, if not for her bright amber eyes.

Red light began to reflect around the clearing. The Rainforest Fae had raised his hands, summoning his magic. Maleficent gave him a withering look.

“We’ve practiced this! Come on! Now is our chance!” he called to the other two. They both hesitated, and then the female raised her hands as well, summoning green magic which combined with the Rainforest Fae’s, turning it brown. 

“But it’s not supposed to be her…? It’s supposed to be-“ The Tundra Fae stopped as the other boy glared at him. He reluctantly raised his hands as well, adding his own blue magic to the mix.

“Now!” The trio shot a blast of magic directly at Maleficent, who dove out of the way. It hit the tree behind her, scorching it. Another swiftly followed, causing Maleficent to have to duck and roll through the clearing. She took cover behind a tree, which was hit within seconds, but it allowed her the few moments she needed to rally. 

Maleficent stood and began to summon her own magic, flames of golden sparks, and stepped out from behind the tree. She met their next attack with a blast of her own. She held it back as bolts of lightning issued from the dueling blasts, striking the surrounding trees and shooting high into the air. Maleficent was straining, veins visible on her forehead, her stance crouched and her feet braced into the soil.

For almost a minute, the four Fae remained as though frozen, none willing to concede. Diaval could see that Maleficent was tiring, but still she held the trio back. Still, they too looked as strained as she. Surely one of them would falter soon?

He almost couldn’t bear to look. Maleficent roared, mustering every ounce of strength she could manage. Her blast of gold started to move toward the three Fae, pushing their magic back. Their faces were frozen in fear, and they tried to fight back, but Maleficent was the only descendent of the Phoenix, and her power was far beyond theirs, even combined. 

The three blasts of magic faltered, and gold surrounded the trio like a whirlwind. Maleficent raised them up into the air, taking off herself as well, and all four rose above the treetops. She threw her hands forward, throwing the three Dark Fae across the top of the trees. They spun through the air, but gained control before they fell, beating their wings rapidly. All three turned tail, heading in the direction of the Dark Fae island across the sea.

“DO NOT RETURN! NEVER RETURN TO THIS PLACE!” Maleficent commanded, her voice echoing forcefully across the Moors. She was a sight to behold, her features set and her wings spread widely in the breeze. She exuded strength and power and _authority_, and Diaval adored her for it.

Maleficent watched the retreating Fae until she could no longer see them, then sank back down to the forest floor. Diaval alighted from the tree, landing beside her and transforming into a man.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes. That was… difficult. More difficult than I had anticipated. Their power combined was almost enough to overwhelm even me.”

“Borra was not among them.”

“No, he wasn’t. Best that he wasn’t, either, or I may not have been able to see them off. Perhaps we were wrong in assuming it was him.”

“None of them fit the description that the pixies gave us, though. He wasn’t here, but that doesn’t mean that he isn’t somewhere. I don’t trust him. I still think he’s up to something.” Diaval muttered.

“They were all very young. Easily influenced. Easily swayed. The young are especially stupid creatures.”

“You were young once.”

“Yes, I know. We all know what an especially stupid creature I was when I was young, even if it did work out in the end.” Maleficent said, raising her eyebrow.

“So all of the damage in the Moors – they were practicing combining their powers like they just did? Why?” Diaval asked.

“The one who seemed to be in charge – the Rainforest Fae – he said ‘We’ve practiced this, now is our chance’, and then they attacked me. I’d say that they practiced it in order to attack someone. Maybe me. Possibly you. Perhaps neither of us, and their aim is to do away with a wallerbog.” Maleficent answered dryly.

“But _why_? Revenge? Control of the Moors? Boredom?”

“Any or all of the above?”

Diaval looked serious. “Do you think they’re taking orders from Borra?”

Maleficent thought for a long moment. “It certainly seems the most likely explanation. I can’t say that I’ve seen those young ones before, so a personal vendetta is probably unlikely.”

“You’re not _that_ terrible.”

“Yes I am. You’re just blinded by love and can’t see how truly evil I am.”

“Guilty as charged. But you’re not so much of an evil faerie that a trio of strangers is likely to want you dead.”

“An excellent point, which is why my answer to your question is yes – I do think that Borra has something to do with this. As to where he is right now… I have no idea. Hopefully somewhere far away from here.”

The light was starting to fade. Diaval turned back into a raven and Maleficent rose. They both took off, heading for the castle just outside the Moors.

In the shadows, behind a large oak tree, a pair of furious Fae eyes watched them go.


	12. Seasons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: this one is a bit soppy. I'm feeling a bit saccharine this morning, haha.

**Chapter 12 – Seasons**

She was quiet. Too quiet. Maleficent had never been one for meaningless conversation, but most of this day she had been almost unresponsive. At best, Diaval was receiving monosyllabic replies, and even more frequently, nothing at all.

They were at the Pool of Jewels, dealing with an overgrowth of algae which had turned the water a revolting shade of green. Maleficent assured Diaval that it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, especially after a long, hot summer, but it was taking her some time to magic away the worst of it and restore the Pool.

He tried to engage her in conversation, but his attempts fell flat. He watched her for a long time, occasionally opening his mouth to say something and then shutting it again without making a sound.

Finally, Maleficent stood at the edge of the clean, sparkling Pool of Jewels. Diaval began to approach her to ask what she planned to do next, only to stop dead when she suddenly clenched her fists and started to scream incoherently at the sky. For several long moments, her shrieks echoed through the Moors, frightening birds into flight and causing all manner of creatures to bolt away from her. Finally, voice spent, she turned and kicked a rock with all her might. Diaval winced as he heard a bone snap.

Maleficent hobbled a few feet before slumping to the ground. She screeched in rage at her mangled foot, which, thanks to her Fae blood was already beginning to heal itself, and punched the earth beneath her. When she opened her fist, green flames began to lick their way up her palms.

“Maleficent! Stop!” Diaval knelt beside her, closing his hands over hers. “Take a deep breath. A _very_ deep breath.”

Her eyes were emerald, and he could see the magic swirling in her irises. She hadn’t lost control of herself like this in months, and this time he wasn’t even sure why. He could only think of one thing to do, reckless in her current state, but the only action which he thought might shock her enough to thwart her rage.

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her as tightly as he could.

“LET ME GO!” she roared.

“No!” Diaval responded firmly, hoping that it wasn’t going to be his last word. She struggled in his grasp, but her arms were pinned to her sides and he was stronger than he looked. “I might be very brave or simply stupid, but I’m not letting you go and do something you’ll regret in an hour because something has made you angry. I don’t even know what. Please talk to me. Have I done something? You’ve hardly spoken all day.”

Maleficent struggled harder, and Diaval held her as tightly as he could. Finally, she conceded defeat and stopped fighting him, laying her head on his shoulder. When she looked up at him, the magic was gone from her eyes. She held his gaze for a long moment before speaking.

“It’s not you.” she said shortly.

“Then what is it? You’ve been behaving strangely all day.”

She bit her lip. “Don’t you know what today is?”

Diaval thought for a moment. “It’s the first day of autumn?”

“It’s the first day of autumn. Do you not know what that means?”

He wasn’t sure what she was trying to say. Autumn – what did that mean? The leaves would soon change to a riot of color, turning the Moors to a living sunset? The winter was coming? What was she talking about?

Maleficent shook her head at him. “I suppose you can be forgiven your raven concept of time. It’s the first day of autumn. That means that today, it has been half a year. Half a year already since the Beastie left us. Half a year since we’ve seen her face or heard her voice. It’s been half a year already and it feels like mere moments.”

Diaval felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. Half a year. He released Maleficent and sat down hard on the grass, stricken.

“Now you understand.”

He couldn’t speak. It suddenly felt like the day Aurora had passed all over again. Half a year. _Half a year_. The thought echoed over and over again in his head.

It wasn’t until Maleficent enveloped him in her arms that he realized that he was crying. She rocked him like a child, her hand rubbing firm circles on his back, as he cried until he could cry no more. When he finally raised his head to look at her, he saw that her face too was wet with tears, her eyes closed and expression one of immense pain.

“Do you think it will ever stop hurting?” she whispered softly.

Diaval shook his head. “No. Aurora was far too special to ever really stop missing her.”

“I wish I’d never let myself love her. If we’d stayed away when she was growing up instead of doing the opposite and all but raising her, then we wouldn’t be feeling this way now.”

“But we would have missed so much. And she would have died of starvation before her first birthday.”

“I cannot ever let myself love like that again.”

“Maleficent…”

“I can’t. I won’t.” she exhaled shakily.

“Do you love me?”

She touched his cheek and smiled sadly. “I’m far less likely to lose you to getting old and dying.”

“Not what I wanted to hear.”

Maleficent kissed him gently. “I love you, Diaval. So much that it scares me. Is that better?”

Diaval smiled. “Much better.” He kissed her back, lingering for just a moment. “But please, please don’t keep how you’re feeling inside until it has to explode out of you. I’m always here if you need me. That’s what love is, after all.”

“I still don’t understand why you love me.” Maleficent said ruefully.

“You don’t need to understand why.” he replied, embracing her again. “Just know that I love you.”


	13. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is going to grant a few wishes, I think :) In other news, it's Friday again, so there probably won't be any more updates until after the weekend.
> 
> Playful Maleficent is such fun to write :D

**Chapter 13 – Hope**

At first Diaval was confused and slightly alarmed at the exhaustion which had gripped Maleficent almost daily since midsummer, and the sudden tenderness and fullness of her breasts, now patterned with spidery blue veins. As the leaves began to turn vibrant shades of orange and yellow, however, the subtle rounding of her slender belly helped him to a wonderful realization. He had seen this before, many times, in fact, as Aurora’s family expanded in all directions. He could scarcely believe his own comprehension at first, but as the weeks passed, Diaval became increasingly sure that his theory was correct. 

They did not discuss it; not a word was spoken between them, but at night as he held her sleeping form, his hand found her midsection and he felt the faintest flutters of the being within. A miracle, a tiny halfling created in love, cherished but feared. He knew that she was afraid to allow herself to love another besides himself again, for losing Aurora had hurt her far worse than Stefan’s betrayal, long ago, and so he watched and waited, and said nothing. He wondered how long she was planning to pretend that nothing was happening; he could see the changes in her body because he knew her intimately, but it wouldn’t be long before it became obvious to everyone on the Moors.

Perhaps, though, she had said nothing because she was more distracted than usual about other matters. 

Diaval was able to explain away the first few pathetic little bodies – after all, death was a matter of life, and creatures died all the time – but the situation was rapidly moving from easily explainable to genuinely suspicious.

He buried each little corpse at the foot of the crumbling castle wall – as non-magical creatures, they would not have been able to be interred beneath Tomb Blooms – and placed the shiniest rock that he was able to find on each to mark the graves.

It was there that Maleficent found him one afternoon, counting the shiny rocks.

“Sixteen. There are sixteen here now.”

“Seventeen.” she replied softly, and he turned toward her. Cradled in her hands was yet another, a young female, barely an adult. Her ebony plumage moved slightly in the breeze, but she was otherwise still. Death should not have come to this little one for many years yet. Diaval shook his head sadly.

Maleficent looked into his eyes with a serious expression. “This is far too many to be a coincidence. You are not to leave my sight until we solve this.”

“I could stay in this form.”

“I don’t want to take the chance. Something – some_one_ – is killing ravens. If they know that you are often a raven, then they may also know that you’re even more often a man, especially if our theory that Borra is behind this is correct. He knows exactly what you look like in your man form. You stay with me if you are not in the castle. If I have to go somewhere alone, you stay there until I return.”

“A prisoner for my own good? Lucky me.”

“I don’t want you under a shiny rock too. Haven’t I had enough grief already?” Maleficent hissed, sweeping past him and into the grounds of the castle ruins.

\---

One cool morning, frosty but promising a warm day, Diaval woke to find Maleficent gone.

He wondered if she had started her usual tour of the Moors earlier than usual, but there was no sign of her. He called, but there was no response.

He waiting for some time, but something didn’t feel right to him. There was a worry that he simply couldn’t shake. Eventually, Diaval decided that risking Maleficent’s wrath at disobeying her instructions was worthwhile, if only to assuage his feeling of unease. Transforming into a bird, he took to the skies, circling above their usual destinations. He saw nothing, and no sign that she had been past either.

Roaming further afield, Diaval searched through the lowlands, then moved to higher ground around the hills and clifftops. Finally, in a secluded clifftop outcrop, beside a roaring waterfall, he found her. She stood completely still, an expression of despair on her face.

“Maleficent.” She didn’t respond, and kept staring down the waterfall, wings tucked tightly against her back. Diaval’s heart leapt suddenly as he realized that she was clearly not prepared to take flight, and she was far too close to the rushing water for his liking. “Maleficent, please.”

“You were supposed to stay in the castle.”

“I couldn’t find you. I waited, but I felt uneasy, so I came to find you. I’m glad I did. What are you doing? You’re scaring me.”

She closed her eyes, fighting tears. “I’m afraid.”

“Afraid? We’ll get to the bottom of whoever is killing the ravens, there’s no reason to be afraid. Even if it’s Borra, he’s no match for you. And I’m far too charming to kill anyway.”

“It’s not that which scares me.”

“Then what?”

Maleficent shook her head and sighed a ragged, tearful sigh. “I would have to be crazy to allow myself to love another as I loved the Beastie. To feel this pain again when I lose another child. I didn’t think this was possible. I was wrong, and I can’t deny it any longer. I can’t ignore it any more.”

“Please come back from the edge.” Diaval quavered, suddenly understanding that her fear of loving and being hurt far outweighed any fear she may have had of another being.

“Why?” she sniffled, and turned to look into his eyes. “You know. I can see in the way you look at me. Where your eyes linger. You know I am with child.” He nodded. He hadn’t realized that she’d noticed him watching her. “You didn’t say a word.”

“I was afraid that you would do… this. Well, not specifically this, but I was afraid that you would flee again. Explode. Do something that you’d regret.”

She regarded him for a moment. “Such as contemplating jumping down a waterfall.”

“Such as contemplating jumping down a waterfall. A very _extreme_ response, I have to say, and not like you at all. Although I’d be the one regretting that, not you. I’d be the one burying my love and my unborn hatchling. You’d be dead.”

Tears began to spill from Maleficent’s eyes, and she wiped them away roughly. “I don’t know that I would have, you know. Most likely not.”

“Even so.”

“This was the one thing I truly feared. Another child. A child born of my own body, no less. Your child. I can already imagine the pain that loving this child will cause me.”

“I like to think that Aurora had something to do with it. Sending you not what you wanted, but what you needed, whether you realized you needed it or not.” Diaval said with a tiny smile.

Maleficent sniffed doubtfully. “That is ascribing rather a lot of intent to a dead person. I think we mated a _lot_, and the inevitable happened.”

“You believe what you want to believe, and I’ll believe what I want to believe. And I believe that Aurora had a hand in this.”

Maleficent took a step toward him, and then another. He reached out his arms and embraced her. “We can do this together. Aurora was as much my daughter as yours, and I miss her so badly it hurts. I’m afraid to love another child as much too. But it’s here, and it’s coming,” he touched the delicate swell of her belly, “And whether I like it or not, I love it already. And so do you.”

\---

The pixies were gossiping. Diaval could hear snatches of whispered conversation and was straining to make out words in spite of telling himself that he had no interest in anything that they had to say.

But they were gossiping, and he felt that he should probably let Maleficent know, given that she was the one that they were gossiping about. Mind you, he suspected that she may already have an inkling, given that she was surreptitiously teasing them with her magic, a devilish glint in her eyes, and the pixies were none the wiser.

A pixie squealed loudly as the tiniest flick of Maleficent’s index finger sent a splash of water into her little face. Turning to the pixie nearest the water, she screeched in anger and attacked, bowling the innocent and extremely confused victim over. Maleficent smiled a barely perceptible yet utterly diabolical smile. Turning her attention to another group, she tugged on the hair of three pixies simultaneously, causing another fight to break out. This time, she couldn’t keep from laughing.

“You are an evil, evil woman.”

“It’s funny. They’re so easy to antagonize.”

“They’re talking about you, you know.”

“Oh? Well, I suppose they don’t have much else to drivel about.”

“They’re beginning to suspect something. I don’t blame them, honestly.” Diaval trailed off at Maleficent’s icy look.

“What?” she asked, her tone dangerous.

“…never mind.”

The pixies had congregated about fifteen feet away from them, huddling together. Every now and then, one of them shot a glance toward Diaval and Maleficent, swiftly turning back around when it was clear that they were watching. All of a sudden, one of the pixies was ejected from the group, propelled toward them by dozens of little hands. It was Flutterrose.

She approached them timidly and cleared her throat.

“Good morning, Maleficent and Diaval. I am Flutterrose-“

“Yes, we know.” Maleficent interrupted.

“Oh, uh, yes. Um, I have been chosen as, um, as a representative of the pixies in order to, uh…”

“In order to what?” Maleficent enunciated carefully. Flutterrose blanched.

“Well, it’s just that you’re looking very, uh, _healthy_ these days.” she babbled. “And some of the pixies… not all of us, to be sure, and I wouldn’t even say a majority, it’s just a few who were just wondering, uh… you’re sort of _glowing_, you see, and…”

Maleficent examined her hands in mock awe, a theatrically amazed look on her face. Diaval pursed his lips. She was _enjoying_ making the pixie squirm, the evil creature. He bit his tongue trying not to laugh.

“I’m glowing, you say? I can’t say that I see it. I’ve never been luminescent before, what an _interesting_ development.”

“Uh, well, not _literally_ glowing, you’re just sort of radiating a certain, um, _aura_ about you these days, and, uh, you’re looking so very, um, healthy as I said…”

Diaval pitied the poor creature. She was so young, and had clearly been volunteered against her will. He exchanged a look with Maleficent, raising his eyebrows as if to scold her for teasing the pixie. Maleficent widened her eyes innocently and smiled back at him.

“Flutterrose.” he said. The pixie stopped babbling. “Come over here and talk to me. You’re _intimidating_.” he said over his shoulder to Maleficent. She narrowed her eyes at him.

Out of earshot of Maleficent, though she continued to stare at them with a sly smile on her face, Diaval gently asked the pixie, “What were you told to ask her?”

“The other pixies have been talking.”

“I’ve heard bits and pieces.”

“They think she is with child.”

“What do you think?”

Flutterrose glanced over at Maleficent, who raised an eyebrow and gave a little wave. It probably hadn’t been a wise choice to approach her when she was in one of her _playful_ moods. “I wasn’t sure for a while. We saw her bent over the roots of a tree one morning, losing her breakfast, but that could have been anything. And she keeps sleeping everywhere. I had to stop Daisyleaf from drawing on her face with mud last week.”

“A very good call, that. She would have ended up a cockroach.”

“But I think she might be. With child, I mean. Do you know?”

“Yes.”

“Yes you know, or yes there’s a child?”

“You realize that she might be upset with me for telling you?”

“Is it a secret?”

Diaval frowned. “I don’t know, honestly. It’s not exactly something that can be hidden for very long.”

“Then it’s true? Maleficent is with child?” Diaval smiled and nodded. Flutterrose’s eyes were enormous. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Are you the father?”

“I most certainly am.” Diaval said proudly. He wondered if Flutterrose’s eyeballs might actually fall out of her head. Suddenly, she grinned and hugged him, then flew swiftly back to the other pixies. Within seconds, they were all squealing in excitement.

“Now you’ve done it.” Maleficent said dryly, walking over to him. “Come on, let’s go before they decide to mob me with congratulations.”

She strode off through the trees, flicking her fingers as she went. A tiny, localized thunderstorm sprang into life behind her, thoroughly drenching every last screaming pixie. Diaval rolled his eyes and followed her.


	14. Slaughter

**Chapter 14 - Slaughter**

Diaval adored Maleficent, but being permanently adhered to her side for his own safety was becoming something of a chore.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with her, no, more so that he no longer had the freedom to _not_, and it grated on him. If he strayed too far for her liking, she called him back like a wandering child. Sometimes she even scolded him. He was accustomed to her scolding after so long together, but it chafed now, as he sorely missed being able to soar freely through the clouds or spend time alone with his thoughts.

So when one afternoon Maleficent suddenly found herself surrounded by exuberant, overexcited pixies who were intent on talking her deaf, pressing gifts upon her and rubbing her barely-visible belly to gabble at the growing babe even as she shied away from their touches, Diaval took the opportunity to sneak away.

He had no intention of going very far – it was more that he wasn’t allowed to go in the first place, which made it a tantalizing prospect. Just a few hundred feet, perhaps. A quick circuit, just to be able to do it. He would come straight back, and hopefully Maleficent would be sufficiently distracted by the swarm of chattering idiots in her face to be none the wiser.

He hadn’t made it far into the trees before his foot collided with something soft, and he nearly tripped.

“Oh no.” It was yet another raven, eyes open and staring blindly in death. Diaval picked up the small corpse and stroked the downy feathers, a stab of grief in his heart. He knew none of them intimately, but they were still his kin, these birds, and he felt each death keenly.

Looking up, he saw another feathered smudge of black against the roots of a tree some fifteen feet away. Another one. And then another, a little further on from there. Gathering the little bodies in his arms, Diaval continued through the forest, his distress increasing with each new find. Before long, he had six dead ravens in his arms.

“Thirty-five.” he choked, adding them to the number already buried at the castle wall beneath dozens of beautiful, shiny stones. “That’s thirty-five now.” Another pile of black feathers caught his eye, and he let out a tiny sob. “Thirty-six.”

Moving to pick up the fallen bird, Diaval stepped into a small clearing between groves of trees. The smell of decomposition overpowered his senses, and he froze in utter horror.

Fifty feet away, Maleficent heard his agonized cry. Her head shot up, eyes wide with dread. She was in motion in a split second, sending pixies hurtling in all directions.

“Diaval!” she called, frantically searching through the trees. “DIAVAL!!”

A cough. A strangled cry. “I’m here. I’m over here.”

He remained still as she approached, unable to turn from the horror before him. As the unmistakable scent of death hit Maleficent’s nostrils, he heard her gag, but still could not tear himself away. Her hand over her mouth and eyes watering, Maleficent stopped beside him, eyes widening in disbelief.

“There are hundreds.” she whispered. “Hundreds of them.”

Before them lay the remains of dozens of unkindnesses, hundreds upon hundreds of birds in varying stages of decomposition. Strewn about haphazardly, ravens reduced to little more than bones lay with the recently dead, piled high between the trees. 

Diaval fell to his knees, unable to contain the tide of anguish and shock, rendered speechless at the brutal massacre of his kin.

Maleficent raised her arms, lifting the soil from the clearing to create a large hole. With a sweep of her hand, the dead ravens tumbled in, every last one, before she lowered the soil upon them again. She turned to Diaval, her eyes as cold as ice. He had not seen this look for many years – not since he had brought her news of Stefan’s coronation. This was pure rage. Betrayal. Fear.

“I will not count the dead, but you clearly wish for me to count you among them. You went off alone, after I told you not to, even knowing that you wouldn’t be safe, and this is why! How many are dead here? Grieve if you must, but I refuse to grieve for you if you choose to die as your kin have done because you couldn’t find it within yourself to keep yourself safe. I will take our child to your grave and tell them ‘here lies your fool of a father, who couldn’t keep himself alive for your sake, nor for mine’. If you mean to be a fool and get yourself killed, then off you go! Be gone! I will not allow myself to be hurt anymore!” With that, she took off and disappeared into the sky, leaving Diaval alone.

\---

All too many times Diaval had opened the ground to give one of his fallen kin back to the earth. There were few ravens left in the Moors now – they were clever enough birds to sense that staying was far too dangerous, and had left for safer places. Now he too found himself faced with the same choice.

Maleficent had withdrawn to the ruined castle. By the time Diaval had reached it, even on wings, she had grown a great dome of thorns around the entire grounds, and although he could have easily slipped through in the form of a mouse or an insect, her message was loud and clear. She was pushing him from her to guard her heart, and in doing so, was falling back into long-forgotten habits. Was the sun setting early, or was it darker now than it had been before?

He turned and flew to the one place he could think of where he might stand a chance of hiding, hoping that it wouldn’t be long before she could be convinced to speak to him. In the meantime, though, he should be safe, and indeed useful, in Ulstead.


	15. Revelations

**Chapter 15 – Revelations**

She would have laughed at him right now, if she’d been there.

Diaval stood shirtless in front of the long mirror in his room at Ulstead castle, admiring his beautiful self. He turned and flexed, marveling at how muscular he had become in just two short months. Demanding physical labor was required in the continued rebuilding efforts, and with nothing else to occupy him, Diaval had thrown himself headfirst into the work. The chapel was almost restored, much to Leonora’s delight and Alice’s relief, as her baby was a mere six weeks away from being born.

Despite busying himself with all manner of building work – he was becoming rather adept at carpentry, to his surprise – Diaval made a daily flight to the castle ruins, hoping to see Maleficent. He would walk around the great dome of thorns, calling her name, apologizing, begging her to speak to him, but she never responded to his entreaties. He wasn’t entirely sure that she was even there anymore. The Moors, however, grew darker with each passing day.

Diaval sighed at his reflection and grabbed his shirt.

\---

He was up in the rafters of the chapel, checking the stability of the crossbeams, when an upset voice called to him from below.

“Leonora? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me. Can you come down please?” the girl sniffled.

Diaval transformed into his raven self and flew down to her, transforming back into a man as he landed. “What is it? Why are you crying?”

“Oh Grandfather, it’s Alice! It’s her baby! He’s come too early! He’s not supposed to be born for weeks yet!” Leonora collapsed against Diaval, sobbing hysterically.

“Now now, don’t get yourself into a state. Is the child alive?”

She sniffed again. “He’s alive, but he’s so small! Will he live for long? I don’t know! What are we going to do?” She burst into tears again.

“Leonora, will Alice see me? Will she let me see the child?” 

Leonora nodded. “She was asking for you. That’s why I came.”

\---

He really was tiny. Diaval had never seen such a tiny baby, and he had seen plenty of human babies over the years. Still, he was breathing well for all that he lacked in size, which gave Diaval hope that the wee boy would be all right.

Leonora had thankfully subdued the worst of her hysterics, but was still standing near the door of the room, wringing her hands. As much as Diaval loved the girl, he found it immensely irritating. He smiled wryly when he realized just what a Maleficentish thought that was.

“May I hold him?” he asked Alice gently. She nodded, and placed her tiny son in Diaval’s waiting arms. He held the baby close to his chest, instinctively trying to keep him as warm as possible.

“He’s a dear little fellow, isn’t he? Just in a bit of a hurry to meet us all, weren’t you?” Diaval smiled at the child. A moment later, though, he had to bite his lip to fight the tears which threatened to fall.

“Grandfather? Are you all right?” Leonora asked, concerned.

“Yes… yes, I’m fine.” Diaval answered in a voice which told her otherwise.

“What’s wrong? I’ve seen you cry tears of joy, and these are not at all.”

“I’m not crying.”

“Yes you are, I can see you. Why are you suddenly so upset?”

Diaval shook his head, his breath shaking.

“Grandfather?”

He looked up, his gaze shifting between Leonora and Alice. “Did you know I am to be a father?”

“What?”

“Really?”

“Who is the mother?”

“Isn’t it obvious? It must be Grandmother. Who else could it possibly be?”

Diaval closed his eyes in pain. “Of course it’s Maleficent. Who isn’t here. Who isn’t here because she’s upset with me and now I can’t even find her to apologize. Will I even get to hold my own child like this?”

“You will, Grandfather. She loves you. Even if she’s angry at you right now, she’ll forgive you. She has to.”

“She doesn’t have to. This is Maleficent we’re talking about. The Fae who held a grudge to the point where she cursed a baby, even if she did end up regretting that later on. Have you looked over to the Moors recently? It’s almost as dark as it was when Stefan was king, and it’s because of me.”

Leonora and Alice exchanged a glance.

“You have to go to her.” Alice said firmly.

“I go to her every day! She’s avoiding me. Hiding, maybe? I can’t find her, in any case. I’ve tried every day for two months.”

“Diaval.” Leonora said seriously.

“_Diaval_? What happened to Grandfather?”

“I need you to listen to me, that’s what happened. You _need_ to go to her. You _need_ to find her. And yes, you need to apologize for whatever it was that you did that made her so angry, even if it was something really ridiculous-”

“It wasn’t, actually.”

“Whatever. What if she _isn’t_ sulking? What if she can’t be found because she’s hurt or sick? You know what she’s like, even being in a delicate condition won’t stop her from flying around and barreling into intruders or taking on anyone who threatens the Moors, but she’s a lot more likely to get hurt right now. Maybe she’s really unwell and needs you! Why are you here when you should be there? I love you, Grandfather, but you’re being a bit stupid about this.”

Diaval had gone quite pale. “I didn’t think of that. Why didn’t I think of that? I have to find her.” He handed the sleeping baby back to Alice and ran to the window. As he opened it, he hurled himself through, transforming into a bird mid-fall, and hurtled toward the ruins of the castle to find Maleficent.


	16. Only

**Chapter 16 - Only**

The thorns rose high into the dark sky. It was the middle of the afternoon, but the Moors and the surrounds of the ruined castle were shrouded in gloom. A vortex of clouds circled slowly above, casting eerie shadows on the ground. Diaval hesitated, took a deep breath, and transformed himself into a rodent, scurrying beneath the thorns before he became a creature’s lunch. Small as he was, he traversed the barrier easily and was soon inside the ruins in the form of a man.

“Maleficent?” he called into the darkness. There was no response. He ran through what was left of the castle, searching every corner, but found nothing but dust and shadows. Even the nest they had constructed looked as though it had seldom been slept in for weeks. Wherever she was, it wasn’t here.

Pulse racing, Diaval transformed back into a mouse and ran through the thick thorns again, skewering himself more than once through inattention. On reaching the outside of the thicket, he changed into a raven and flew circles around the ruins, calling out to her. There was no response.

Telling himself not to panic, he flew toward the Moors. It was very likely – entirely probably, really – that she was there, and that was why she wasn’t at the castle ruins.

It was very likely – entirely probably, really – that she was just in another _part_ of the Moors, and that was why he couldn’t see her anywhere at first.

It was very likely – entirely probably, really – that she was hiding out somewhere that he hadn’t thought to look, and that was why he still hadn’t found her after four hours of searching.

It was not at all likely, he told himself, that she was dead. The swirling darkness was coming from somewhere. He was still alive, and he was still able to transform, which meant that he still had access to her magic. She had to be alive, so there was that. He pushed away the thought that she might be somewhere hurt, or too ill to move, or sobbing over the body of their tiny child because like Alice’s baby, it was born too early, far too early to live. He would find her, and she would be perfectly fine, and the little one would be perfectly fine, and he would apologize to her, and she would… well, most likely rage at him again, but he’d worry about _that_ part once he found her. She was fine. Perfectly fine.

Suddenly, on the branch of a tree, he spotted what had become an unfamiliar sight in the Moors – a raven. This little male was very young, fairly recently fledged. Naïve, innocent, perhaps a bit cocky for his own good, as Diaval had been when he was that immature. Diaval landed beside him and chirruped a greeting. The young raven eyed him warily, taking a step away.

_“No danger. Friend.”_ Diaval reassured him in the raven tongue he had spoken since his hatchling days.

_“Danger here. Evil ones.”_ the young raven replied.

_“Evil ones?”_

_“Evil ones. Wings big. Human faerie. Killing. Much killing. Kin leave. I stay.”_

_“Where evil ones?”_

The young raven suddenly looked up in fear as a bolt of red energy hit him full on the chest. He let out the tiniest cry and fell, lifeless, to the ground. Diaval took off with a squawk of fright, dipping and twirling to keep from being an easy target. A bolt of green magic missed him by inches. He changed direction suddenly, aiming for the treetops. Almost there. Almost there. Just a few more feet and he was safe…

He felt a sudden searing pain in his wing, and was no longer flying but falling, spiraling downward to the forest floor, impacting painfully. He rolled into the trunk of a tree and lay there, as still as he could, afraid to breathe. His wing burned and his vision swam. Through the blur, he made out four large shapes between the trees. Wings. Big wings. 

One of the shapes approached the body of the young raven, poking it with a bare foot. Colorful. Familiar. It was the Rainforest Fae who had fought Maleficent months ago. Despite having been chased away from the Moors in terror, he and his companions had returned, and with another.

“How are we even to know if we’ve gotten the right one? They all look the same.” he grunted.

“You will know when they are all dead and not a single raven flies within the Moors. Check the other one to make sure. You failed to hit that one directly.” came a gravelly voice from the shadows.

_No… no!_ Diaval thought in terror. The Fae rolled Diaval over with his foot, sending blinding pain shooting through his body. Diaval held his breath, trying to ignore the pain and the darkening of the edges of his vision as unconsciousness beckoned, playing dead and hoping that he was convincing enough. The Fae paused and bent over him as though to take a closer look.

_This is it. I’m done for._

The sound of branches cracking beneath approaching feet caught the attention of the Rainforest Fae and his companions in the trees. The Fae glanced over to them.

“Go. Fly. Get out of here.” came the gravelly voice urgently.

The four Fae departed rapidly, leaving Diaval alone. The footsteps became louder. Then he heard it – the one sound he wanted most to hear.

“Another one. You poor little thing, why were you even still here? Oh no. No. No, no, no! Diaval! _Diaval!_”

Hands enveloped him, holding him close. 

“Please don’t be dead. Please please please don’t be dead!”

Fighting unconsciousness, he forced a weak squawk from his mouth as a means of reassurance, but even that effort made him dizzy and sick, the blackness at the edges of his vision encroaching. The last thing Diaval saw before the darkness claimed him was the tearful relief on Maleficent’s beautiful face.


	17. Unity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about posting this together with the next bit, but it's hard to write good smutty make-up sex when your kids keep interrupting, so it'll have to wait until they're asleep, haha. So here's a short chapter, and my solemn promise that Diaval and Maleficent are totally going to do it in the next chapter. Pinky swear.

**Chapter 17 – Unity**

He awoke to an unfamiliar place, in an unfamiliar bed. A fire crackled warmly nearby, shielding him from the chill of the night air. He was in his man form again, and his arm ached. He examined it carefully, noting that although his wounds seemed to have been healed, there was some residual scarring, splayed across his bicep like a splash of water.

Diaval sat up carefully and looked around. It was a cave. Stalactites hung from above him, and on one side of the cave, a makeshift table had been created using several stalagmites and a door, which he supposed had been stolen from the humans. Beneath it lay a small pile of logs and kindling. Beside the bed sat an oddly beautiful creation of intertwined vines; a cradle, soft faerie-made blankets already within, ready for the downy head of a newborn babe to rest there.

A noise at the entrance of the cave caught his attention. There, wrapped in a thick cloak and clutching a basket of fruit, the last of what remained from the autumn-ripening crop, Diaval supposed, was Maleficent. She put the basket on the table, picked up a log from the pile beneath it, and put it on the fire.

“Maleficent. I’m so sorry.” Diaval rasped. She looked up at him.

“You’re awake.” she smiled.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You were right and going off alone was stupid of me. I’m so sorry. I tried to find you but I couldn’t, you never answered-”

“I was here. I didn’t stay long at the castle ruins.”

“You’ve been living here the whole time?”

“Most of it. We’re in the hills – nowhere near the other Fae, but up quite high. It feels safer here. I figured that if I were to give birth alone, I needed to be somewhere very secure. Protected.”

Diaval hung his head. “I should never have gone.”

“I told you to go.”

“I should have risked making you angrier and ignored you.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have been the first time you’d done _that_.”

They gazed at each other for a long time.

“I suppose,” Maleficent said awkwardly, “That chasing you off was not the best idea I have ever had.”

“I don’t know, you have a long history of questionable ideas.”

She didn’t answer him immediately. “I thought you were dead, you know. When I saw you laying there in the roots of the tree, not moving. I was so afraid.”

“If you hadn’t come when you did, I would have been.”

“You were grievously injured, yes.”

“That’s not what I mean. The Dark Fae were there. The ones you chased off months ago, but with another as well – there were four of them this time. They were about to check and make sure that I was dead when they heard you coming and fled.”

Maleficent looked alarmed. “You saw them? They were the ones who hurt you?”

“It was the Rainforest Fae who hit me, but they were all there. A gravelly voice. A familiar one. He was directing them.”

“Borra.” Maleficent whispered angrily.

“I didn’t see him, but it sounded like him.”

She came and sat on the bed. “I’ve not seen them in the flesh – they’re keeping well hidden, moving around, and I don’t think they are in the Moors constantly either. I’ve been following their destruction, though. More dead ravens, although there are so few remaining in the Moors now that it has only been about a dozen. Blasted and damaged trees. Several unexplained deaths among the faeries. I was never able to catch them, though. Stealth is becoming a little more challenging these days.” she raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth twitching.

Diaval’s loving look spoke volumes. He sank back into the bed, still feeling drained from his injuries, but his hand found her swollen womb beneath the cloak. “Wow.” he said softly. Two months had made quite a difference. The child kicked against his palm. “Hello there, little one. Or not so little one, as it were.”

Diaval bit his lower lip and held Maleficent’s gaze. “I should never have left you. Anything could have happened – to either of us. Any of us.” he corrected himself, gently stroking her belly. “We’re stronger together. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” she whispered, leaning down to kiss him softly. She lay down beside him in the bed, wrapping her arms around him. His own arms found their way around her, the soft feathers of her wings warm and familiar and comforting, and they lay together like that for the rest of the night.


	18. Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smuuuut smut smutty smutty smut smut. You can stop refreshing AO3 now, haha.

**Chapter 18 – Forgiveness**

Her hands came to his shoulders, kneading gently as he sat by the fire, weaving cattails into long ropes to then be made into baskets. Diaval closed his eyes, wincing slightly. He hadn’t realized how tense he was, guarding his arm these past few days as it slowly healed completely. Maleficent had explained to him that magical injuries, whilst healable to a point, were generally best left alone if possible. He wasn’t thrilled about this, but deferred to her greater knowledge on the subject with only minor complaining.

“I should be doing this for you.” he said.

“You can later. I certainly won’t object. I think that the little monster has had a growth spurt recently and my back is protesting. Loudly.”

“Mmm-hmm, true, that.”

Maleficent stilled her hands. “You’re a brave bird, making comments about my size with my hands this close to your throat.”

Diaval grinned, raising an eyebrow, but keeping his eyes closed. “I think you’re beautiful. Stunning. Very, very appealing.” He licked his lips and Maleficent snorted, her hands starting to manipulate his sore muscles again.

“No word of a lie! I look at you and I’m having all sorts of wonderfully carnal thoughts.” he moved his hand behind him to rest it on her thigh. “I think you’re positively delicious right now.”

“You’re overdoing it, Diaval. I’m not that offended.”

“I wasn’t trying to un-offend you. I _do_ find you quite alluring like this. Round with a child that _I_ put there. You’re beautiful beyond words.” His fingers started making tiny circles on her thigh, and she moved closer to him, her belly flush against his back. She pressed a kiss into his neck and started to massage down his shoulder blades.

True enough, and Diaval had not expected it. Particularly now that the child had grown and Maleficent’s condition had become undeniable to even the most casual observer, he found himself consumed with an almost primal desire for her. He supposed it was instinctual behavior, this need to protect her and care for her and _claim_ her, this unexpected lust which had sprung from her carrying his offspring, but the strength of his feelings surprised him.

He turned to her, kissing her index finger which rested on his shoulder. “My turn.”

Diaval rose, moving to sit behind Maleficent. She spread her wings apart, and his thumbs found the tight muscles at the small of her back. Kneading in hard circles, he worked the stiffness from her body, spurred on by her small, appreciative noises. Finding one muscle in particular that was very tense, he reached around her with one arm for greater leverage, digging the other into the right spot.

“Ow.”

“Am I hurting you? I’ll stop.”

“Don’t. It’s a good sort of hurting.”

So he kept going, massaging in wider circles around the offending muscle, until Maleficent was all but purring in his arms. She leaned into him carefully, mindful of her horns, and he brushed his lips against her shoulder.

“Do you truly still find me appealing?” she asked, her tone sultry.

Diaval responded by biting her gently where her shoulder met her neck. Maleficent inhaled a ragged breath.

He moved his lips to her ear, breathing, “Beyond words…”

She shivered in anticipation as his hands moved on her body, stroking her breasts and her belly, as he nibbled on her ear, whispering soft words of desperate desire. It had been so long.

He took her hand, rising to his feet and helping her up before leading her to the bed.

“I’ve missed you…” she murmured as his lips found hers.

It had been two long months since he’d kissed her like this, and it felt like a lifetime. Diaval pulled Maleficent close, kissing her deeply and passionately, his hands tangled in her hair. She wrapped her wings around them both, creating a warm cocoon of feathers, and stroked her slender fingers along his spine. Diaval shuddered at the sensation, his organ beginning to swell in response to her.

He moved his own hands down her back, settling them on her hips, and started kissing down her throat. Maleficent tilted her head back to allow him better access and made a low noise of appreciation. Diaval gently eased them both down to the bed, side by side, and started working on the buttons at the front of her dress.

To his annoyance, Maleficent was wearing another two layers of undergarments. “It’s _cold!_” she insisted in response to his impatient expression. “Oh fine…”

She flicked her wrist and their clothing vanished from their bodies, reappearing in a pile on the floor.

“I didn’t know you could do that!” Diaval exclaimed. Maleficent raised an eyebrow at him cheekily, lazily running her fingers across his chest and biceps. 

“Your time in Ulstead was well-used, I see.” she said, her voice low with desire. Diaval groaned and kissed her again, exploring her mouth with his tongue and biting her crimson lips until she moaned. Maleficent broke free of the kiss and moved lower, nipping at Diaval’s chest, her thumbs circling just below his navel. His breath came in ragged gasps at the sensations flowing through his body.

Tentatively, he moved his hands to her breasts, hoping that they weren’t as tender as they had been when he had last laid with her like this. Bigger, definitely, which he found inexplicably arousing, but as he bent his head to take her nipple in his mouth, he realized that they were far more sensitive in a completely different way to what he remembered. She arched against him as he worshiped her with his tongue, begging softly for more when he gently ran his teeth along her tender flesh.

Diaval worked his way downwards, trailing kisses over the swell of her belly. He imagined that he could feel the shape of the child inside; sleeping now, he suspected. Of this he was glad, because it didn’t feel right for the babe to be awake when he shortly did what he intended to do to its mother.

His mouth found her core, his tongue dipping between her folds and eliciting a cry of delight. Maleficent’s hands were twisted in his hair, her hands clenching and unclenching fitfully in time with his mouth. He stroked her inner thighs and she moaned low in her throat, trembling as her muscles began to spasm. He increased the pressure of his tongue on her and she fell apart, sobbing his name over and over again in ecstasy.

Diaval kissed his way back up Maleficent’s body, a smug look on his face as he took in her heaving chest, parted lips and eyes closed in delight. She shuddered with the aftershocks of her climax.

Her hands came to his hips and she opened her eyes, heavy-lidded with lust. Without warning, she rolled Diaval over onto his back, capturing his mouth in a fierce kiss. His hands stroked her wings desirously, reverently, as their tongues dueled. Diaval thought he might go completely mad with the strength of his need for her. Sensing this, Maleficent rose up on her knees and sank down on his organ, taking him into her in a single delicious motion which left them both gasping in pleasure. She barely took a moment to adjust to his length within her before she began to move, sliding up and down with long, sensual strokes, her hands braced on his chest. Diaval met her each time, thrusting upwards into her heat, groaning as he felt himself coming closer and closer to the edge.

Maleficent increased her speed, panting and whimpering with the sensation of Diaval’s organ within her. She began to moan, and he moved more deeply into her, willing her to come again. With a cry, she tensed and shuddered, rocking erratically on his organ as she climaxed, and collapsed onto his chest. Diaval groaned, pumping into her again and again, and within seconds he was seeing the heavens, falling from the clouds and spilling into her. Breathing heavily, he relaxed back into the bed, exhausted but sated. Maleficent lifted herself from him and lay beside him, wrapping her arms around his chest. He shifted to hold her as well, grateful indeed to be beside her once more.


	19. Yuletide

**Chapter 19 –Yuletide**

A light snow was falling as Maleficent and Diaval approached the castle in Ulstead on foot, owing to Diaval’s injury and the need to detour around the majority of the Moors for reasons of safety. It had been a slow walk, and despite having left at sunrise, it was now late afternoon. Maleficent had pulled her cloak firmly around herself and was using her wings as an additional layer. Diaval was struggling to feel his fingers and toes.

Maleficent looked up at the south tower with a curious expression on her face.

“What is it?”

“Is that Leonora?”

Diaval followed her gaze. Sure enough, in one of the uppermost windows, the grinning face of their great granddaughter could be seen. She waved enthusiastically before disappearing from the window, no doubt to trip down four flights of stairs to welcome them in the great hall.

Maleficent shook her head indulgently. “Sometimes she reminds me so much of Aurora. Such a sweet girl. Too sweet, really, I can’t quite understand how she hasn’t been eaten alive yet.”

As they approached the doors of the great hall, they flung open, and Leonora raced in slippered feet across the icy ground to throw her arms around them in glee.

“You’re back in time for the christenings! And together! You found her, Grandfather! You’re both all right! I’m _so happy!_”

Diaval grinned. It was impossible not to share Leonora’s gusto, and he was equally thrilled that Maleficent had forgiven him, after all.

“Come inside out of the cold! We were doing a bit of Yuletide decorating – you can help! It would make getting the higher decorations up a lot easier with some wings involved!” Leonora laughed. Maleficent raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

\---

Diaval had to admit that the effect was pretty, even if the custom itself was strangely brutal.

In the great hall stood a pine tree some fifteen feet tall, which had been adorned with balls of spun glass. Maleficent scowled in a corner of the room. She had never entirely reconciled herself to the Yuletide tree in the great hall and resented the death each year for the sake of a custom. Leonora was trying to convince her to fly up to place a copper star at the top of the tree, but was getting nowhere quickly. Little Aurora sat on the floor, giggling with glee at the flurry of activity around her. King James cradled Princess Alice’s small son by the fireplace, telling him a story of long ago. The baby had grown in just the few weeks that Diaval had been gone, but was still very little. Alice herself was engaged in decorating the tree, along with her husband and their two older sons. Other members of the royal family laughed, chatted and decorated. The atmosphere was festive and jovial, a wonderful contrast to the last time that they were all together.

Diaval went over to Maleficent and Leonora, putting his hand on the latter’s shoulder.

“I’ll do it.” he said. Transforming into a bird, he flew the star to the top of the tree, using his beak and talons to affix it firmly before flying back down and changing back into a man again.

“Perfect!” smiled Leonora.

Maleficent narrowed her eyes at the tree, pretended to scratch her ear and surreptitiously twirled her fingers. Threads of gold surrounded the tree, lighting it up with thousands of tiny sparkles. So captivated were the Ulsteadan royal family by these twinkling lights that none of them noticed Maleficent’s actual goal – the truncated base of the tree began to sprout roots, which slowly dug their way into the stone floor of the great hall. Maleficent smiled a small, but satisfied smile. Now the tree would last for many years. Granted, it would never be able to be removed, but that wasn’t her problem to deal with.

Diaval saw what she had done, however, and gave her a sideways look. She widened her eyes in an expression of mock innocence and turned back to the glittering tree.

\---

“I will be very grateful when spring comes. This is taking far longer than I would prefer it to, and is becoming more uncomfortable by the day.” Maleficent sighed, gesturing to her swollen belly as she and Diaval settled into their bed for the night. She started rearranging the multitude of pillows on the bed into an ad hoc nest.

“It will be spring before we know it. It’s a funny sort of thing, though, making babies on the inside like that. I actually wondered for a time there if your species laid eggs. You have wings like birds, after all.”

Maleficent shook her head. “We’re built like humans, though. Eggs don’t get larger once they’re laid, and an egg large enough for a fully grown Dark Fae newborn would be enormous. Far too big to actually lay. It would kill us.” she replied bluntly.

“Well we wouldn’t be wanting that.” Diaval remarked in alarm before continuing, “It’s an odd way of doing it, though. _You’re_ the egg.”

“It’s only odd to you because it’s not what you’re accustomed to.” Maleficent remarked, punching one of the pillows to shape it into a form she wanted.

“I suppose so. Doesn’t it feel strange to have something wriggling around like a great big worm inside you?”

“Extremely.”

“And do you think the child will remember it? I have the vaguest recollection of hatching... pipping the eggshell and fighting my way out. It’s hazy, but I do remember.” Diaval mused.

“You remember being _born_?” Maleficent asked in disbelief.

“I guess I do at that.”

“Interesting. I doubt the child will recall anything from the first few years, though. I have no recollection of my birth, or indeed, my parents, as they were killed before I was a year old. Most do not remember their lives that early on.” Maleficent commented.

“It’s funny… it never even occurred to me that a child of mine could come in any way but in an egg.”

“When you’re in your human form, everything about you is human. Notwithstanding that it would have been impossible to achieve physically, had you been in your raven form, then this child could not have been made. Our species are too far removed to reproduce successfully when you are a raven.” Maleficent shifted in the bed, wincing.

“Are you all right?” Diaval asked in concern.

“I’m fine. Just _very_ uncomfortable. I almost wish my kind did lay eggs.”

Diaval felt as though he should apologize. 

“Aurora didn’t come in an egg.” Maleficent pointed out gently.

“Well, no she didn’t. She didn’t come to us in any kind of usual fashion.”

“She was still our daughter, though. In all the ways that counted.”

Diaval reached over and twined his fingers in Maleficent’s. “She was indeed.”

They were silent for a long while, until Diaval spoke up. “She loved this time of year. Yuletide. Her family all together and having fun with each other.”

“Do you remember that year that she hung the mistletoe above the stairs and all but steered us beneath it?” Maleficent recalled.

Diaval laughed. “She was so frustrated with us.”

“Well, we both knew _exactly_ what she was trying to do.”

“Yes, and kept making excuses to walk in different directions just to tease her!” They both laughed at the memory.

“Or what about that year that she tried to convince me to wrap myself in my raven form so that I could give you ‘the gift of Diaval’?” Diaval reminded Maleficent. She snorted.

“Oh, that was terrible. She was so exasperated by that point. What was she, about fifty by then? And trying to convince us to be together for about thirty of those.”

“All she ever wanted was to see us together.” Diaval said softly.

“She was right, though. Maybe we should have listened to her. I deeply regret that she’ll never get to meet our child.”

The room had taken on a somber atmosphere, and Diaval pulled Maleficent into his arms. “Better late than never?”

“I suppose. It’s so difficult to feel truly happy at this time of year, knowing how much the Beastie loved it, when she’s no longer here to share it with us.” Maleficent said with a tremble in her voice, “Even though in every other way, I am truly happy. I miss her dreadfully and it feels wrong to be happy without her.”

Diaval stroked Maleficent’s hair. “I understand. I feel very much the same way. But Aurora was such a happy person, it’s almost as though being happy ourselves is a tribute to her life.” he mused. “She brought us immense joy, and we can bring immense joy to each other and other people, and when we do, well, then she’s not completely gone, is she?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm adding endnotes to this chapter.
> 
> I see a lot of fics out there which have the Dark Fae laying eggs like birds - that whole 'phoenix' thing, apparently. I'm of the opinion that they wouldn't, that they would live-birth, and this is why:
> 
> Physiology.
> 
> They have wings, yes, but they're built like humans. They walk upright. They would therefore have a pelvic outlet like a human would, which would limit the size of anything able to pass through. Eggs are laid at the size they need to eventually be, and they don't get larger once laid. Unless Fae babies were ridiculously small - as in, at the time of hatching they would fit into an egg with no more than a 30cm circumference - then there is no physical way that they could come from eggs, because trying to lay something any bigger would probably kill the mother. Even passing an egg with a 30cm diameter would be terribly difficult. Infant heads mold for a reason, you know? Never mind that baby birds have an egg tooth on their beaks to pip the shell to get themselves out, and squishy baby Fae, like baby humans, would have no such thing (because where would you put it?) The horns are facing the wrong way to be used like that. I reckon they're just born without horns, and like baby teeth, they start to grow in the first year of life.
> 
> So, as I stand down from my soapbox, I will conclude: it doesn't make physiological sense for the Fae to lay eggs, because they would all die giving birth and that would be the end of the species. So endeth my lecture.


	20. Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... there's one chapter left after this one. I'm not sure how I feel about this, it's been quite the journey and I've enjoyed it immensely. I hope that you have too!

**Chapter 20 - Flight**

A graceful twirl of Maleficent’s left hand saw her gifts bestowed upon the two babies; chubby, gummy-grinned Aurora, and the tiny prince who, to her equal delight and consternation because it had made her mate strut like a peacock when he had heard, had been given the name Diaval.

“I give you both the gifts of wisdom, courage and kindness. May you always strive to do what is right, all the days of your lives.” she smiled.

She stepped back to where Diaval waited for her, and he slid an arm around her waist, smiling at her. “That’s a lovely gift.” he whispered. “Much nicer than the one you gave Aurora that time.” Maleficent elbowed him in the ribs.

Other Fair Folk came forward to offer up gifts for the babies as well as their parents watched proudly. Little Diaval’s brothers ran through the crowd, absorbed in a game of tag, until the younger of the two, Ivan, tripped and fell hard to his knees. He let out a loud wail. Diaval scooped him up, holding the boy on his hip and rocking him as the ceremony was completed. Ivan leaned his head on Diaval’s shoulder and snuggled in, his thumb in his mouth.

The christenings were followed by a grand feast with over three hundred guests in attendance. The great hall swarmed with people and Moorfolk alike, chatting, dancing and laughing as old friends.

“Look at this. It’s…” Maleficent trailed off, shaking her head with a tender smile, “It’s just what the Beastie always dreamed of. Peace.”

“Not very peaceful peace, this.” Diaval commented, subtly placing himself between the increasingly intoxicated revelers and Maleficent to keep them from knocking into her. She gave him an exasperated look.

“They’re having _fun_.”

“Are you?”

She thought for a moment before admitting, “It’s a little bit loud and chaotic for my tastes. But to each their own.”

“Should we go then? Maybe a stroll around the gardens? It’s a lovely night. Or we could go home, if you’d prefer. I think my wing is up to flying again now.”

Maleficent nodded and started to wend her way through the sea of guests to the doors, Diaval on her heels. Once outside, he transformed into a raven and they both took to the skies, heading for the clifftop cave on the Moors.

\---

“We need to keep searching for the Dark Fae. I would feel rather better about everything that is to come if I knew that the Moors and those who live here are as safe as possible. And you. _Especially_ you.”

“I don’t like that idea at _all_. I think that you should stay here where you’re safe, and we can worry about the Dark Fae later on, after you’ve given birth. Leave the baby with Knotgrass and Thistlewit and we’ll go searching then.”

“What sort of damage could be done in that time? I cannot abide it.”

“How much longer is it, really? They’ve been in the Moors since the summer. What’s a bit longer?”

“A bit longer is still about two more months, Diaval. They’ve already rid the Moors of just about every raven, and now some of the Fair Folk are starting to suffer and die as well. We can’t wait another two months until after the child is born.”

“Two more _months?_” Diaval was taken aback. “That’s… longer than I thought. How is that even going to _work?_” he asked, cocking his head to the side and appraising her belly. Maleficent glared at him.

“I’m going to start in the south-west and work my way north-east. Will you be coming with me, or staying here, keeping in mind that these are your _only_ options?” Her glare became a scowl.

“I’ll be staying with you, by your side, like your shadow, protecting and serving as always, my mistress.” Diaval answered with a sarcastic bow. Maleficent narrowed her eyes at him but said nothing.

“Onwards we go, then!” Diaval exclaimed, taking on his bird form and swooping around her head in circles. 

\---

Maleficent sat down against the trunk of a large rowan tree with a grimace, her hands rubbing her lower back. Knowing that she would be unimpressed at him if he called attention to it, Diaval looked around for a comfortable spot to sit as well. The day was unseasonably warm for winter. Pleasant, even. The snow had melted away and the air was barely cool enough for a cloak.

After several hours of walking, all the while finding evidence of the Dark Fae having been there but not the Fae themselves, it was definitely time to stop and rest. Maleficent conjured some apples and handed one to Diaval, who bit into it with relish. Juicy and sweet, with a crispness that he adored. Just right.

He wandered a little, munching on his apple, always keeping Maleficent just in sight. Just above the level of his head, he spotted yet another burn marring the bark of an oak tree. He reached up to touch it, wishing that he possessed the Fae power of healing, when a gravelly voice broke through his reverie.

“Hello raven.”

Diaval spun around in surprise to see a familiar, but very unwelcome face emerging from between the trees. “_Borra_.”

The Dark Fae smirked. Behind him, the three young Fae in his thrall came into view, menacing looks on their faces.

“Why are you here, Borra? Why have you been killing the ravens, and the Fair Folk? I assume that was you?” Diaval asked, his voice sounding far braver than he actually felt. He realized that from where he was standing, Borra couldn’t see Maleficent – he thought that Diaval was alone. He willed Maleficent to stay where she was, but he could see her struggling to her feet out of the corner of his eye.

The Dark Fae barked a derisive laugh. “It was by my order. But these fools managed to kill every raven but the one I needed dead and out of the way. It’s time for you to fly far, far away, little birdie.”

“That’s a very dangerous thing to be saying.” Maleficent said acidly, stepped out from behind the tree and standing in front of Diaval like a shield, shocking Borra into stillness.

“Maleficent. I didn’t realise you were here…” he trailed off as his eyes were drawn to her midsection. Her dress of soft juniper green fabric was not designed to accentuate her rounded form, but it did nothing to hide her condition either.

Borra let out a roar of fury. “You are carrying the raven’s child?!” he spluttered in horrified rage.

“The line of the Phoenix continues. Isn’t that what you wanted, Borra?” Maleficent asked, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

“Not a halfling! Not the product of a mating which should never have been permitted! You have sullied yourself and your line by letting him get a child on you!”

“Well well. The story has changed somewhat in the retelling, hasn’t it? I was sure that you’d be thrilled, given how concerned you were for the line of the Phoenix to continue. Fortunately, I have no concern about your opinion of me, low or otherwise, so I’m sure I can manage to not cry myself to sleep over it tonight.”

“Are you doing this out of spite?”

“Excuse me?”

“For five decades, I have asked you to be my mate, only to be turned down every time. Then you foolishly decide to make a mate of your _pet_, of all things, and allow him to do _this_ to you,” Borra gestured aggressively toward Maleficent’s belly, “As though your own kind matter not at all. What if this halfling creature has no magic at all? How can it be heir to the Phoenix if it is a mere powerless human?!”

“You forget that I didn’t learn of the Phoenix until I was well into adulthood. I did not grow up with the same reverence toward it as you clearly did. At the risk of insulting you – or perhaps because of it – I can tell you that it matters little to me. This child is not coming to keep a bloodline going,” Maleficent asserted, her hand lightly grazing her rounded form where the child lay sleeping, “It is coming from love. Because I am loved, and because despite everything that has happened in my past, I love. Even though it’s terrifying. I could never, and would never, agree to be your mate, because I don’t feel that for you. You haven’t been with me for a century, always steadfast and reliable, always there whenever I needed. You haven’t been the one steering me toward doing what is good, and what is right, questioning me when I did not and forcing me to listen to my conscience, and you haven’t been the one quietly telling me for decades that you love me, even when I was too blind or stubborn to see it. I was never going to choose you, because I was always going to choose Diaval.”

Borra stared at her menacingly for a long time. Too long.

“Juna, Tarlo, Fero, destroy the bird man. I want to roast him on a stick. I will deal with this woman. Her choices have been made questionably, so perhaps the choice must be taken from her.” 

With his words, Borra beat his wings and rose before rushing at Maleficent at enormous speed, knocking her from her feet and into the mud. She rolled onto her hands and knees, shaking the mud from her wings, and took flight. Borra charged her again, but this time she dodged, drawing level with the treetops as she came out of the swerve. 

Borra came around, raising his hands above his head. The branches of the trees snaked upwards towards Maleficent, winding around her ankles and pulling her downward. She shook them free, flying higher, but Borra was right behind her. 

Ducking and weaving, never staying still for long enough for him to magic the trees into trapping her, Maleficent flew through the Moors, trying to lose him. Borra, however, remained on her tail, his wings beating a deep staccato as he gave chase. Tree branches leapt to his bidding, trying to slow Maleficent down. She was tiring. Borra’s wingspan was greater than hers, so she had to work harder than he in order to outfly him, and the child in her womb slowed her further.

Breathing hard, Maleficent flew with all her might to the waterfall. The mighty falls roared as she approached, deadly rocks jutting out behind the wall of water. If she timed this badly, both she and the child would be dead, but if she timed it well…

Powering toward the waterfall, Maleficent broke through the rushing water before turning sharply downward, grazing her wings on the rocky outcrop behind the falls, trying to give the illusion of a cavern behind. She dropped rapidly with the falling water. Moments before diving into the pool at the bottom at high speed, she heard a sickening thump from above, and the water closed around her.

\---

Diaval flew with all his strength after Maleficent and Borra. Though the remaining Dark Fae had been ordered to kill him, once Borra had attacked Maleficent, their horrified looks told him that he was in no danger from them anymore. Indeed, the one called Juna came to him apologizing, having finally, belatedly realized that she was aiding a madman. Even the Rainforest Fae, as bloodthirsty as he had always seemed, looked stricken.

He transformed into a bird and followed them, though he could only see them as specks in the distance, flying toward the hills. He beat his wings as hard as he could, gaining ground as Maleficent weaved in different directions, trying to throw Borra off.

He spied the waterfall up ahead, with Maleficent heading straight for it. He watched in horror as she flew straight into the rushing water, knowing that the rocks lay very close behind, keening in his raven’s voice in pure terror. Borra was only seconds behind her, and he too flew straight into the water. This time, Diaval heard the terrible sound of an impact at high speed.

Diaval dove down toward the pool at the bottom of the waterfall, keen eyes searching, hoping, praying that he would find Maleficent alive. Suddenly, a dark shape appeared from beneath the water, a hand breaking the surface, and she rose, gasping and flailing in the deep. Diaval plummeted into the water, transforming into a kelpie as he plunged. He swam beneath her, lifting her up above the surface to the air, before slowly taking her to the muddy riverbank.

He nudged her onto the bank before transforming back into a man, cradling her shivering form as she vomited water from her body, tears flowed steadily from his eyes.

“Borra.” Maleficent whispered through chattering teeth. Diaval followed her gaze to see the broken body of the Dark Fae drifting down the river. His head was a ruin, blood pouring from his eyes and nostrils, his skull caved in from the impact to the rocks. His sodden wings trailed behind him as he rounded a bend, out of sight.

“He won’t try and hurt us ever again.” Diaval whispered, holding Maleficent as tightly as he dared. She leaned into him, closing her eyes, and said nothing.


	21. Phoenix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are. I post this as I listen to the Maleficent soundtrack, and specifically, the track 'True Love's Kiss'. It seems very fitting for a chapter in which the world changes ever so slightly, but completely and forever as well.
> 
> Please note: I tried to write this as truthfully as I could. 'Hollywood birth' is so far removed from reality that I think, for those who haven't experienced how incredibly empowering it can be at its best can gain a false sense of what it is really like. Maleficent, at her heart, is a wild creature, with the instincts of a wild creature. I tried to write this chapter, in which she gives birth, with as much realism as possible. From the feeling of being in control, through to that time of transition in which yes, you do doubt that you can do it and you just want to stop and do it again some other day, right through to the point where your body just takes over and does what it needs to do. Those first moments with your baby, the way that you touch them so tenderly and gently, exploring this new person who is all at once the center of your universe and your heart on the outside of your body.
> 
> I hope I have done it justice.

**Chapter 23 – Phoenix**

The night was cold and dark, and Diaval awoke feeling chilled. He realized why in moments – Maleficent was not in the bed. He rose quietly and found her by the soft light of the moon at the entrance of the cave. Her back was to him and she was swaying from side to side, breathing deeply and evenly. Diaval was confused.

“Maleficent?”

She held up a hand to silence him and kept swaying.

After a few more seconds, she sighed, and straightened, turning to face him.

“It’s all right, Diaval. Go back to sleep. It will be hours yet.”

“What will be hours?” He cocked his head to the side in a decidedly ravenish fashion. Then it hit him. “Oh! You’re laying! Oh my, what should I do? Do I need to get someone?”

“You need to stop panicking.”

“I’m not panicking. I’m…” he retorted, his voice sounding shriller than usual. She silenced him with a look.

“You’re panicking.”

“Maybe a little.”

“You’re not going to go back to sleep, are you?”

“How can I go back to sleep when you’re out here laying my son or daughter? Maleficent?” She had turned and braced herself on a rock, breathing deeply again. He waited, sensing that this was not a good moment to bother her.

“It hurts you.” he whispered, realization dawning on him as he watched her movements, heard her breathing, saw the way in which she narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw. “It’s hurting you. Why is it hurting you?” He tried to not panic, as instructed, but it was hard to control the rising fear. Laying didn’t hurt – his she-raven kin had told him as much. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling, but it didn’t hurt to lay.

“I’m sure I told you not to panic, Diaval.” Maleficent breathed as the pain passed.

“But it’s hurting you!”

“It isn’t the same as laying an egg. It hurts for fae. And for humans. I don’t suppose you would remember from when Aurora was birthing her children, you weren’t in the room. I almost couldn’t stand to be in there myself, watching her suffer so. It is painful, Diaval. And it will get worse before it gets better.”

“How do you bear it? Why would anyone do something which hurts them?”

“Again, do you remember when Aurora gave birth to James and Isolde? Do you remember when I came to get you, and we walked back into that room? The look on her face as she held her baby? That is why. Reproduction is an imperative and instinct tells us to do it, irrespective of how much it takes. It hurts for us and we know no different anyway.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the last word and she gave a soft groan. “But oh my, it does hurt.”

“Can I- can I do anything to help?”

Maleficent shook her head gruffly. “I need to walk.” she whispered. 

Diaval approached her as though she was a wild animal, and carefully took her arm. “Lean on me.” he said gently.

Together, they walked up and down the clifftop, stopping with each contraction, Maleficent trying to stay silent and Diaval holding her and wishing she would stop trying to be brave for his sake. He had a sense of what was happening inside her body, and didn’t think he was imagining that it was becoming more intense with each passing hour as the cold night wore on. As the sky began to lighten with the coming dawn, Diaval could stand it no longer.

“I should get someone.”

“No!” she snapped, dropping to her hands and knees and panting, “Stay here. Don’t leave me.”

“But…”

“Get the blanket.”

“But…”

“GET THE BLANKET!”

He raced back into the cave and grabbed the folded faerie-made birthing blanket from where she had left it weeks before. Running back to her, he unfolded it and laid it on the ground. As the wave of pain passed, she crawled onto it and removed her nightgown, kneeling bare before him. He knelt with her.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Hold me…” Her face contorted in pain and she groaned low in her throat. Diaval’s arms found their way under hers and she leaned into him, moaning. He could feel her swollen belly growing rigid against him as her muscles worked to move the babe into the world. Her hands gripped his shoulders.

“I can’t do this. I can’t do this, I’m afraid. Someone else should do it.” Maleficent whimpered, suddenly irrational. “I can’t do it. You have the baby. I can’t do this.”

“You can do this. You are doing this. It will be over soon and I’m right here with you.” Diaval soothed, not really knowing what else to say to her. A moment ago, she had been so in control.

“No, no, no, no, I can’t, I can’t…” The pain became too much to speak through and she let out a primal growl. Diaval held her close, whispering comfort and love. He had no idea if she was even listening, but it made him feel better in any case.

The contraction passed, and he felt her relax into him. In a matter of moments, however, barely time for her to level her breathing, another wave was upon her. And another. And another.

“I need to… I need to…” Diaval felt Maleficent straining now, in a new and different way, bearing down noiselessly with all of her strength. He held her tightly, counterbalancing her, until she relaxed again. She looked up at him, sweat plastering her hair to her brow, pain and exhaustion evident in her green-gold eyes. “It’s almost over.” he whispered tenderly. Her tired smile was barely evident, but it was enough for Diaval.

Maleficent grimaced again and buried her face in his shoulder, breathing deeply and pushing with all of her might. She gasped, panting in pain, no longer straining but trying to breathe through whatever was happening. The pain passed, and she looked up at him again with a shrewd expression. “Almost there. Just one more, I hope.”

Diaval chanced a look between them. “Is that the babe?!”

“About a third, perhaps. Oh…” Maleficent reached for him again and bore down as another wave of pain coursed through her for the final time.

A soft sound issued from between them, as the hatchling emerged fully and landed on the soft blanket. Maleficent reached down and picked up the child.

“Still in the caul…”

Diaval was confused. The child appeared to be encased in a soft egg of sorts.

Maleficent was working at the egg with her fingernail, and succeeded in tearing it open. In a gush of fluid, the babe was freed and within moments a lusty wail pierced the still early morning air. Maleficent cradled the child and caught Diaval’s marveling gaze. “It’s supposed to be lucky, Diaval. Being born in the caul.”

“A half-raven hatchling should come from an egg, even if it’s a strange soft one.” he murmured.

He looked at the baby. Though still slick from the birth waters, it was clear that the child had his raven-black hair, with telltale whorls around the spots where horns would someday grow. A pair of tiny wings, no bigger than those he had in his raven form, sat against the child’s back. Though half of him, this baby would easily pass for a fullblood fae.

He turned his attention to Maleficent, who was gazing down at the babe in her arms with a mixture of wonder and terror on her beautiful features.

“You were amazing.” She glanced up at him. “No, really. You were. I didn’t realise how… brutal… birthing was for humanlike creatures. How could something so perfect cause such pain?”

She smiled a tiny, embarrassed smile, and then a look a pain contorted her features once more.

“Oh no, is there another one?” asked Diaval in a panic. Maleficent shook her head.

“Just all that comes after a child. Diaval, please fix the bed. I need to rest.”

He quickly made the bed ready and helped her into it, cleaning her and tucking a cloth between her thighs. All things considered, he preferred the bird way of having babies, it was far less messy and painful, but Maleficent seemed to be nonplussed about the blood and the chaos of it all. Now that the child was born and she was no longer in pain, she was entirely her usual acerbic self again.

He wrapped the afterbirth in the birthing blanket, intending to bury it away from the cave. He went to tell Maleficent that he would be back shortly, but his words went no further than his tongue when he looked into the bed. She lay on her side, the babe in her arms, nursing. The little one suckled greedily, and she stroked the soft widow’s peak of her newborn gently and carefully with her fingertips, before moving to caress tiny angular cheekbones and delicate wings. Not wanting to spoil the moment, he made to leave, but she looked up at him with such an expression of absolute love that her face shone like the brightest of stars. He put the blanket down and lay down on the other side of the child, marveling at the tiny hand he held in his own. The baby gripped his finger and Diaval found himself unable to breathe at the intensity of feeling coursing through him. He looked up at Maleficent, who was smiling the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen grace her features.

“Isn’t love worth taking a chance for, then?” he said softly, “Look at what we made. She’s perfect.”

Maleficent bent and kissed the baby’s tiny brow. “I can’t help but wonder what Aurora would have thought of her.”

“She would have adored her. A baby sister. And you, finally admitting that you think I’m wonderful enough to have a baby with.” Diaval added with a wink. “She never stopped subtly suggesting to me that we should be more than friends. She would have been so happy to see this wee one.”

“I miss her more right now than I have in many months.” Maleficent whispered, her eyes glistening. “I wish I could have had both of my daughters with me today.”

The baby shifted suddenly, opening her eyes and settling her unfocused newborn gaze on her mother. Diaval was absurdly pleased to see that her eyes, whilst clearly a deep golden green near the pupil, were jet black around the outer iris, an echo of her raven parentage.

“We will tell her everything. All of the stories, right from the beginning. She’ll know her sister. We’ll make sure she does.” he promised, and he held them both.

Some time later, when both Maleficent and the baby slept, Diaval slipped out of the cave to bury the afterbirth. It was mid-morning, and birdsong rang out across the Moors. Faeries came to see what he was doing, flitting off in excitement to spread the news when his broad grin confirmed their eager questions. 

Starting back to the nest, he noticed blossoms beginning to flower on the trees. The air felt warmer than it had in some time, and a fragrant breeze ruffled his dark hair. A beautiful day to be born, Diaval realized with a bittersweet and knowing smile. It was, once again, the first day of spring.

~Fin~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments, your kudos, your feedback and your camaraderie in this lovely Maleval ship we're all sailing on. This was the first fic that I ever had the kahunas to publish, and I'm grateful to each and every one of you who took the time to comment and encourage me to continue.


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